Mobile Suit Gundam: The Second Century Part 3
by Buried Alien
Summary: Five years after the fall of Archduke Alexander Miguel of Zeon, old friendships are tested as a new world order emerges. Minerva Zabi and Jolie Minh face their greatest challenge - each other!
1. PROLOGUE

**Prologue**

_December, U.C. 0105…_

_Five years have passed since the conclusion of the war between the United Forces and the Archduchy of Phobos Zeon. _

_With the passing of Archduke Alexander Miguel and the surrender of his forces, the era of Zeon has come, at last, to a close. The Zeon colors fly over no space colony, nor upon the desolate surface of the ruined Earth, nor upon any registered space vessel. All that remains of Zeon are space pirates and privateers…former Zeon soldiers, now war criminals and fugitives more concerned with profit than patriotism. These miscreants make use of their salvaged Zeon war technology to terrorize the shipping lanes between the Earth Sphere and the outlying frontier colonies in the Asteroid Belt and the Martian and Jupiter orbits…forming crime syndicates that will traffic anything and everything, or commit contract assaults with mobile weaponry, for the right price…but lack the vision, unity, will, organization, and sheer numbers to resurrect the Archduchy once again. No Zeon warlords remain…no Giren Zabi, no Haman Karn, no Char Aznable, no Alexander Miguel to galvanize the broken remnants of past Zeon glory. The Archduchy of Zeon is finally, irrevocably dead. _

_The Earth Federation continues to exist, but has become both an anachronism and a misnomer. Founded more than a century ago, the Earth Federation has no Earth to rule. The planet is yet to recover from the devastation inflicted upon it by the Archduke Alexander Miguel's "Operation Darkest Summer," which saw the simultaneous uncontrolled descents of over a dozen space colonies around the globe, creating a nuclear winter that ultimately claimed ninety-five percent of Earth's population, and snuffed out the planet's ability to support a viable living ecosystem for generations to come. The Earth Federation has largely moved its operations to the frontier colonies, of which it governs a relative minority. In the election year U.C. 0101, Senator Mirai Yashima-Noah was elected by a seventy-percent majority as the twenty-fifth President of the Earth Federation Government, and won a second term in the election of U.C. 0105. Her administration has focused its efforts on the ecological restoration of the Earth as well as the relocation and repatriation of many Federation citizens displaced by the wars against Zeon. President Yashima-Noah has also pursued a path of strengthening diplomatic ties with the Shambala Republic, an effort greatly helped by the fact that the Shambala Republic's Prime Minister, Dr. Artasia Daikun, is one of President Yashima-Noah's oldest and most trusted friends…and by the fact that Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi-Noah is the President's own daughter-in-law. _

_The Earth Federation Forces are no longer the monolithic standing army that secured the Earth Sphere prior to the One Year War, but a skeleton force barely equal to the task of protecting its relative meager territories. Nevertheless, though far less expansive, the Federation Forces nevertheless boast its elite Special Forces, which have since evolved into and simultaneously become a subset of the Strategic Naval Research Institute (SNRI), a small, but potent and dynamic force that combines frontline combat operations with intelligence-gathering and weapons systems development, particularly in the area of Psychom weapons systems. General Bright Noah has been the prime mover in this restructuring of the Earth Federation Forces, although he once again faces challenges from General Manron Blackhead, who though rendered paraplegic by a Zeon ambush five years earlier, has recovered enough to resume active duty and is pushing for a more aggressive and expansive remilitarization of the Earth Federation._

_In this post-Zeon world of the Second Universal Century, the most powerful social, political, economic, and military entity is the Shambala Republic. Based at the old Zeon homeland of Side 3, the Shambala Republic's dominion extends to the lunar cities of Anman and Von Braun and all the space colonies of the Earth Sphere excluding Side 7, which remains the Earth Federation's sole remaining territory within the Earth Sphere. The Shambala Republic also extends its suzerainty to the majority of the space colonies in the Asteroid Belt and the Martian and Jupiter orbits, and has spearheaded development of the Frontier 9 and Frontier 10 space colonies in Saturn orbit._

_Prime Minister Artasia Daikun and Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi-Noah remain much loved figures by the citizenry of the Shambala Republic five years after the founding of the Shambala nation. The first two years were difficult, as the new nation struggled to organize itself and cope with the aftermath of the war against the last of the Zeon. The past three years have seen stability and security gradually settle over the Shambala Republic, and booms in the colony construction industry have created overall economic prosperity. Zeon Daikun's dream of a just and peaceful Spacenoid nation, apparently, would be realized after all…_

_Scientific and technological research has thrived under the sponsorship of the Shambala government, particularly in applying technology that the Archduchy of Zeon had been developing for warfare towards ecological reclamation. Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi-Noah has led efforts to apply the Zeon's colony laser technology to speeding the Earth's recovery from the effects of the mass colony drops of U.C. 0100. Archduke Alexander Miguel's undeveloped colony laser systems have been converted into mechanisms through which the billions of tons of debris thrown into Earth's atmosphere, cutting off life-giving solar energy to the Earth's surface, is burned away. The effort is expected to continue for at least another half-decade, but already, the nuclear winter effect caused by the colony drops have been partially reversed and ecological colonies have been established on each of the continents to replant dead forests and plains, and to reintroduce animal species to their old habitats. Shambala scientists have prognosticated that barring any significant setbacks, the full recovery of Earth's ecology should be complete by the beginning of the Third Universal Century. _

_Even the mighty Shambala Republic is not free of troubles and controversy: Defense Minister Meitzer Ronah has called for expansion of the Shambala Republic Defense Guard, which though adequate to protect the Shambala Republic's interests from encroachments by the Earth Federation or the scattered remnants of Zeon, the Defense Guard remains a much smaller and less substantial force than the Earth Federation Forces and the Archduchy of Zeon Forces had been prior to the outbreak of the One Year War. During an infamous address to the Prime Minister and the Shambala Parliament in April, U.C. 0104, Defense Minister Ronah stated emphatically, "The Shambala Republic is Cosmic Babylonia, and like the Babylonia of the ancient world, a mighty empire must have a mighty army." The Defense Minister found himself rebuked by both the Prime Minister and half the members of Parliament. Prime Minister Daikun went as far as to criticize the Defense Minister's "brash warmongering as the same kind of thinking that turned the Zeon Republic into the Archduchy of Zeon," and reaffirmed her commitment to not letting history be repeated in such a manner._

_This is the world of the Second Universal Century era, Year 0106…_


	2. EPISODE 1: THE LIONESS AND THE PHOENIX

**EPISODE 1: THE LIONESS AND THE PHOENIX**

_Anaheim Skunkworks Mobile Development Facility _

_Classified – Codename: WHITE STAR_

_Security Clearance: Top Max_

_9-December-U.C. 0105_

_02:33_

_Surveillance Status: Active; Moderate Threat Alert_

Since the Archduchy of Zeon's **Operation: Darkest Summer **in August, U.C. 0100, the once gleaming-blue surface of Planet Earth has taken on a distinctly lifeless, choked, grayish hue…the thick layer of dust and soot thrown seemingly permanently into the atmosphere by the multiple mass impacts across the planet. In the distance, near the visible rim of the globe, a brief, brilliant light flashes silently and intensely for a minute, burning through the thick haze to provide a momentary glimpse of the dark seas below…evidence of **Project: New Dawn** in operation – the Shambala Republic and the Earth Federation's joint effort to restore the Earth's ecology. Even with the application of the latest technology, the consensus of the scientific community is that at least a century will pass before the Earth's ecosystems return to pre-drop conditions.

The cosmos is silent and vacant, as it has been for an eternity. Earth's immediate orbit, however, is littered with countless pieces of debris from twenty years of warfare. Derelict space colonies. Wrecked spacecraft. Mangled hulks of scorched mobile suits drift high above the globe…some to eventually be burnt to cinders after their orbits decay and they are drawn by the planet's gravity through a fiery descent through the atmosphere…others to float forever in the eternal darkness.

Amidst this veritable Sargasso, it is little wonder that eyes, both flesh and electronic, might miss two drifting figures, minute relative to all that surrounds them.

The first figure, slender and feminine, drifts gracefully ahead of her companion, a lean, wiry male. Their normalsuits, helmets, and visors are as black as the cosmos around them, unmarked by any color that might betray their presence, and coated with Minovsky particles to mask them from non-ocular sensors. No sound is heard by either of them other than their shallow breaths within the confines of their helmets.

The two figures drift closer to their objective…a space colony formerly in the Side 1 orbit left adrift in the aftermath of a battle between the Earth Federation Forces and the Archduchy of Zeon Forces during the final months of the One Year War. To all appearances, the colony, formerly a residential/light industrial colony known as Moffett, is nothing more than a derelict…its operational life having ended the day its steel and reinforced glass shell was penetrated by the rounds of Zaku machineguns and GM beam spray guns. As far as Moffett's history as the home of 850,000 civilians and a light industry base, that remains the truth…but Moffett has experienced a secret afterlife during the past five years to which only a few dozen souls are privy…

The female figure magnetizes herself to the massive armored hulk of the ruined space colony, an action mimicked by her male companion an instant later. The willowy, normalsuited female then extracts a small electronic tool from a pocket in her boot and opens an electronic systems access hatch embedded in the colony's hull.

A series of quickly tapped figures into the small electronic tool reveals a concealed entryway…surprisingly and paradoxically well-kept when juxtaposed against the battered ruin surrounding it.

The two figures drift through the long passageway, which runs perhaps 600 meters long into the bowels of the abandoned colony. Within the hundreds of colonies like Moffett that have been devastated by war, one would expect to find malfunctioning power and life-support facilities, ruined cities, the wreckage of burned out mobile war machines, and the like…

Hidden deep within Moffett's decayed exterior, however, is a bustling, state-of-the-art construction facility…with normalsuited technicians rushing about with tools, large and small, into and out of a hangar compound…a large, cavernous concrete and steel edifice whose roof is marked with the cryptic letters "SNRI."

The female points towards the hangar, and her companion nods. Stealthily, they keep to the shadows, out of the view of the workers…their adeptness at avoiding detection suggests that they have taken part in such maneuvers many, many times before.

The stealthy duo alights on the concrete wall of the bunker/hangar, and slowly makes their way towards a side entrance. Stealing inside, they spot their objective at last.

Suspended by a dozen alloy cables from the ceiling of the hangar is a massive mobile armor. Silver with black trim, the mobile armor is aerodynamic and sleek in profile despite its considerable bulk. It is clearly a war machine designed to be equal parts capable of overwhelming a foe with superior force as it is outmaneuvering a foe with superior speed and maneuverability.

Surrounding the mobile armor is a squad of twelve men armed with Earth Federation Forces' issue automatic rifles.

The female points towards the mobile armor and her companion quietly makes his way towards it. At the same time, the female removes another item from the pockets of her normalsuit, and lets it drift inconspicuously in the low gravity environment. A minute later, after the object has drifted a hundred meters away, the female extracts a final item from her normalsuit…a small silver Walther handpistol.

The draw, the aim, the shot, all executed in one fluid motion, with one result…an explosion on the far wall of the hangar that sends work crews scrambling and screaming in a sudden panic.

The female figure takes advantage of the confusion caused by her incendiary to approach the idling mobile armor.

Just as she is about the board the MA's open cockpit, she is spotted by one of the dozen armed guards.

"You!" the guard bellows, leveling his rifle at her, "Move away fr…AWP!"

The guard is felled by a single shot from the female's handpistol, the bullet lodging it into his brain having entered almost bloodlessly between his eyes.

The young woman seals the bullet-resistant canopy of the MA as she drops lightly into the cockpit seat. Already, the in-flight computer of the mighty war machine is displaying operating data onto the Heads Up Display (HUD). Behind her, in the engineering/navigation/in-flight control station, her partner continues bringing the systems of the mecha to life.

"Engine power at 85% and climbing," the young man reports, "We are fifteen seconds to critical mass."

"Roger," the young woman acknowledges, "Guidance and weapons systems online."

"We're set," the young man says, "Power output at 100%."

"Power to thrusters," the young woman orders.

"Roger that," the young man says, complying.

The rogue crew of the mobile armor sees the Federal Forces security team firing its weapons futilely against the armored mass of the mobile armor. The occasional pelting of the reinforced cockpit by a stray bullet fails to alarm either the pilot or the engineer/navigator.

"Deploy weapons?" the engineer asks.

"Negative," the pilot replies, "We aren't here to kill people. We have our objective; let's go."

So saying, the pilot moves the thrust lever into the 100% position, sending the aerodynamic mobile armor blasting out of the hangar and, seconds later, punching out of the hull of the former Moffett colony.

Scarcely thirty seconds have passed before the engineer/navigator notifies his partner in the pilot/mecha commander's seat, "We've got four bogies ahead. Identifying: Jegan-VI types, beam rifles, Vulcan cannon, heatseeker and electronic tracer missiles…twelve apiece."

"Disregard," the pilot replies, "We're not engaging them unless we have to."

"I think that option's just been taken off the table, babe," the engineer replies, "Those bandits have just unloaded two dozen stiff ones at us."

"Deploy suppressors," the young woman responds calmly.

"Suppressor deployed," the young man responds, fingering a series of controls built into his monitor/console.

A series of plasma flares is deployed from the internal nacelles of the mobile armor, drawing away the heatseeker missiles, but leaving the electronic tracer missiles…a half-dozen on them, closing in on the mecha.

"Minovsky suppressor systems aren't in synch," the engineer remarks, "Enemy missiles closing on our six. Impact in seven seconds."

"Give me more thruster output," the pilot orders.

"Roger," her partner replies, "You've got overdrive thrust."

The pilot thumbs a button on her control stick and the mobile armor lurches forward, its thrust greatly outpacing the speed even of the pursuing missiles.

"This baby's fast," the engineer remarks, clearly impressed with the mecha.

"Zero knots to Mach 6 within thirty seconds outside of planetary gravity," the pilot remarks, "As fast as it gets without the use of an M-Booster system."

"That won't help us much if the threat's coming from in front of us," the young man replies grimly, "Enemy targets ahead: a _Magellan_-class gunship and a couple of more Jegan-VIs."

"Slam on the brakes and give me combat mode," the pilot orders.

"Reverse thrust engaged...weapons systems to combat mode," the engineer responds.

Powerful retro rockets fire, slowing the forward momentum of the mobile armor before it collides with the enemy warships and MS units.

The pilot activates the targeting systems built into her normalsuit helmet, the _Magellan _bracketed in her gunscopes.

With the press of a slender thumb, a torrent of ordnance rushes forth from the mobile armor, slamming hard into the _Magellan_-class warship.

The mobile armor, however, is quickly assailed by the beam rifles and missiles of the Jegan-VI squad, with the earlier pursuing squad if Jegan-VIs moving in to reinforce the defensive line. Ten Jegan-VI units total.

"Switch us to mobile suit configuration," the pilot of the mobile armor instructs.

"Roger," comes the reply from the engineering system, "_**OMEGA Gundam**_ mobile suit configuration engaged."

The mobile armor's modular sections fold, twist, swivel, unlock, and relock in new positions, shedding the shape of a sleek mobile space craft to assume the anthropomorphic armored warrior…a mobile suit…a **GUNDAM.**

The Omega Gundam raises its arm-mounted shield, shaped in the familiar elongated quadrilateral configuration that has characterized the majority of previous Gundam-class and Earth Federation Forces frontline combat mobile suits in general, but only in its frame. The reinforced, triple-layer of Gundarium that usually fills the shield's bulk is curiously missing…leaving a gaping vulnerability.

The incoming beams and ordnance close in upon the shield that is not a shield, and the empty space between the quadrilateral lights up a light, incandescent green…a framed field of focused Minovsky particles that disperses or disintegrates upon contact the incoming torrent of beam energy and solid ordnance.

With the graceful, fluid motion of an expert marksperson, the Omega Gundam retracts its shield and raises its powerful mega beam rifle into firing position. The pilot locks three targets in her helmet's targeting scope and squeezes off three rapid beam shots in succession.

Three Jegan-VI units rapidly collapse upon themselves and balloon into bursting shrapnel. The rest, their having witnessed the Omega Gundam's devastating display of force, turn to flee, vectoring away from the scene as quickly as their thrusters can propel them.

The pilot of the Omega Gundam has the fleeing targets bracketed within her gun sights. The opposing units have absolutely no hope of escaping…not from the Omega Gundam's vast array of superior weapon systems.

The pilot relents, removing her thumb from the trigger, converting the mecha back into mobile armor configuration, and bolting away in the opposite direction from the fleeing Earth Federation Forces MS.

"Not worth it, eh?" her partner chimes in from his station.

"Not necessary," the pilot replies, "I don't want more to die than absolutely necessary. That's always been our operating philosophy."

"Right," comes her partner's reply, " It's a good thing the Federal Forces don't have a greater presence here in the Earth Sphere these days, or there'd have been no way in hell we could've pulled this off. Check out the power on this monster! I still can't believe the Federation chose to build this thing here in the Earth Sphere rather than out closer to their new core in the Outer System…or at least at Side 7."

"SNRI wasn't counting on anybody discovering their operation here," the pilot responds, "They've been discreet. They must have been out here working for at least four years, but we only discovered what they were up to four months ago."

"My apologies," the engineer replies archly, with a tone of mock offense, "But you've always said you preferred it when I took things…a little slower…"

The pilot's gloved hand momentarily alights across her belly before she answers, "We haven't got much time. This is vital to all our futures, and we need to get it resolved quickly."

* * *

_16 December, U.C. 0105_

_Near the Frontier 1 Space Colonies, a new development that began construction a decade earlier at the Sun-Earth L2 point, located 1.5 million klicks outside the Earth Sphere._

The remains of two _Temptation_-class space shuttles drift listlessly across the SEL2 orbit, shredded and blasted metal drifting along parts of decompressed human flesh…all that remains of the 1,392 men, women, and children who had been passengers of the two spacecraft a scant two hours earlier. Three more shuttles, each bearing approximately 700 souls, and for the present, intact and undamaged, drift nearby…surrounded by five formerly Zeon-affiliated Geara Doga mobile suits. Magnetically affixed to the hull of each shuttlecraft is a cobalt limpet mine, similar to the ones that had annihilated the two wrecked shuttles.

"Absolutely unacceptable," responds Gerard Kincaid (previously Captain Gerard Kincaid of the Archduchy of Zeon Forces, Serial # 1175332) to the Earth Federation negotiators' latest offer for a peaceful end to the prevailing standoff, "You will release all political prisoners and provide both the funding and armaments we requested by 05:00, or we will kill the people on the remaining space shuttles. You already have the blood of 1,400 on your hands from refusing our demands. You know we have the will to carry out our threats. Do not contact us again until you are prepared to agree to our terms."

Kincaid kills the communication. The Federal Forces' negotiators, including Frontier 1 Defense Guard commanding officer Col. Truong Nguyen, exchange knowing glances. The terms that Kincaid and his group are demanding can't be met, but there are those 1,400 lives…

Col. Nguyen passes on the word, "Cen-Strike, you have the green light."

Aboard his RX-78S Strike Gundam, Major Eric Gardner (SNRI, Earth Federation Forces) carefully lines up the targets in his sights…the cobalt limpet mines that threaten the space shuttles are bracketed within green electronic targeting markers.

Gardner's pulse and breath are hardly a hair above resting as he adjusts his scopes.

_Game's on the line, Eric_, Gardner tells himself mentally, _You don't fuck these up. Never have before…not gonna start today._

Confident, ready, Gardner thumbs the trigger switch three times.

Three shots erupt from the Strike Gundam's weapons pack…not missiles, not a stream of superheated Minovsky particles, not Vulcan rounds…but an anti-explosive effluent that would render the cobalt limpet mines useless upon contact.

Three heartbeats. Three hits. Three neutralized explosives.

Gardner knows that it isn't over. In fact, it's barely started. The explosives have been taken out of the discussion, but that still leaves five heavily armed mobile suits, each of which could easily shred a shuttlecraft.

The veteran SNRI officer takes aim with the RX-78S's beam rifle, cutting loose with a searing crimson beam that misses the lead Geara Doga unit (Kincaid), but incinerates one of his confederates.

Kincaid's furious response comes through the communications network to Col. Nguyen, "You've just murdered these people, Colonel!"

The passengers aboard the three space shuttles cry out in horror as they see from viewports the Geara Dogas bringing their beam rifles to bear upon them. Terrified children cling to their parents, final prayers are offered, and some stoically await the end.

A moment in time, frozen, in darkness and silence – life and death separated between the ticks of a second.

Huntress eyes have scanned the field and locked into targets…the gleam of distant starlight upon silver-hued alloy.

The inaudible drawing and exhalation of a breath, three gentle squeezes of a small, feminine hand upon a joystick trigger mechanism.

Three flashes of red lightning, so swift as to barely be perceptible.

Three mobile suits, lanced through precisely in a manner that guarantees the deaths of their pilots, but produces no explosion that would threaten the safety of the passengers of the three space shuttles.

A moment passes before Kincaid realizes that he is completely alone.

Alone in the eternal blackness of space.

Kincaid squeezes the trigger on his Geara Doga's joystick, determined to bring down whatever is menacing him, or the space shuttles whose human cargo his enemies hold so dear.

The weapon, however, has been cleaved cleanly in half, energy sparking from its wrecked muzzle.

Kincaid directs his mobile suit to reach for its beam saber, but barely has it extracted before a red blade of Minovsky particle energy has burned through the reinforced hatch of his Doga's cockpit, vaporizing him instantly.

The red blade is extracted and tucked within the backpack nacelle of a massive, gleaming metal armored form.

Dark, intense eyes burn with the fire of retribution…

* * *

The passengers of the shuttles, confused, still fearful, and unable to believe that they remain alive, gradually take to the viewports.

The face of a young boy, no more than ten years of age, arcs into a wide smile as he recognizes the silvery armored form looming beyond the viewport, lit by the rays of the sun.

"The White Phoenix! It's the White Phoenix!"

_White Phoenix_…the phrase brings smiles and exultations of relief among the 687 individuals – families immigrating to Frontier 1, business people and jobseekers looking for new opportunities, tourists and diplomats – whose ordeal, they know, is over.

The visor of a helmet is raised, revealing wide, expressive, dark eyes with the burning intensity of a predator on the hunt.

A glimpse…and she vectors away into the eternal darkness of space.

"Cen-Leader to Defense Guard Command," Major Jolie Minh-Miguel reports grimly, "Shuttlecraft secured. Enemy targets eliminated."

"Good work, Major," Col. Nguyen returns, "Any prisoners of war to interrogate?"

"Negative, Colonel," Jolie replies, "Couldn't risk it with the shuttles in jeopardy."

"Understood," Nguyen responds, "On behalf of my personnel and our colonies, thanks go out to the SNRI for its assistance, Major Minh-Miguel. Frontier 1 Defense Guard Command out."

Jolie receives a hailing signal from her mission partner, Major Eric Gardner, whose RX-78S Strike Gundam pulls up behind her White Phoenix Gundam.

"Mission accomplished, Major," Eric says cheerfully, "That didn't go so badly, eh?"

Jolie says nothing for a long, agonizing minute, and then finally says, "Tell that to those people on the two shuttles that were destroyed before we could get there. You saw the bodies, Eric. There was a woman…she was terrified, and so was the little boy clinging to her. We failed them, Eric."

Major Gardner says nothing. Civilian casualties always hit Jolie hard…not that Eric finds them easy to take, but Jolie seems to take them personally.

Jolie sighs, "Let's get out of here…I promised your fiancée that I'd only be borrowing you for three weeks, and we've been chasing ex-Zekes around Frontier 1 for four months now."

Eric grins, "Chieming is very understanding and patient. After all, she's put up with you for years without complaining."

Jolie snorts.

The familiar mass of the Earth Federation Forces' space battlecarrier _Amuro Ray _looms ahead of them. Within minutes, they have docked with the warship, and within the hour, the mighty vessel's M-Boosters flare to life, propelling it towards the Earth Sphere.

* * *

Five days later, the _Amuro Ray _docks with Side 7's Green Oasis Colony, the Earth Federation's final bulwark in the Earth Sphere. Green Oasis remains the headquarters for the Earth Federation Special Forces, now part of a far more diverse and extensive organization titled the Strategic Naval Research Institute (SNRI), whose range of functions include special combat operations, intelligence-gathering, espionage, black-ops, and mobile weapons development (including the Newtype Corps Program, of which Major Jolie Minh-Miguel has been designated as program director).

Having disembarked from the _Amuro Ray_, Jolie and Eric stride down one of the long corridors from the gangplank to the main terminal area, each carrying a small black valise in hand. Eric holds forth cheerfully on the joyous prospect of an extended break after their recent four-month tour of duty.

Jolie characteristically says little in response, listening to Eric's sunny banter without any remark or response other than a wry, reluctant grin more out of tact than amusement.

At the far end of the terminal, Jolie and Eric spot Captain Chieming Noah, Jolie's Executive Officer on the Centurion Team.

"So you two finally decided to come home," Chieming says with a bright smile that belies her arch tone, "I was seriously beginning to wonder if you guys were having an affair behind my back."

Eric wraps an arm around Chieming and replies lightly, "Well, I definitely _wanted_ to, but Jolie wouldn't cooperate, so…"

Chieming elbows Eric in the ribs…_hard!_

"All right, all right…kidding," Eric says, "I wouldn't leave you out, babe. I think a threesome would…"

Jolie cuts in, "Your phone's flashing, Major."

"Damn it," Eric groans, then answers, "Major Eric Gardner, SNRI. Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

Eric's expression turns serious as he listens intently for a minute before responding, "Yes, ma'am. I'll meet with you right away."

"Col. McKenzie, I'm guessing?" Jolie ventures.

"Yeah," Eric replies, "Priority 1 Security Alert."

"Let's go, then," Jolie says.

Eric says, "She only summoned me, Jolie. Didn't say anything about wanting you to report."

"Weird," Jolie comments, finding the lack of a summons for her oddly disturbing, "It's just as well. I could use some downtime."

Eric turns to Chieming, "Why don't you go with Jolie? Whatever it is will probably only take an hour or two. Can't imagine Christina sending me on another assignment right away."

"Hurry back," Chieming says mischievously, "Jolie will have eaten me alive if you take too long."

"I would," Jolie deadpans, "Except I don't eat meat anymore."

Major Gardner boards a jeep sent for him by Col. McKenzie for the ride to SNRI headquarters at Garrison Noah. Another jeep, driven by Chief Warrant Officer Rayann Zhang, one of the Centurion Team's newly inducted recruits, pulls up to the curb.

Chief Officer Zhang, a fresh-faced sixteen year old, disembarks from the jeep and salutes the two senior officers, "Major Minh-Miguel, Captain Noah, ma'am!"

"At ease, Chief," Jolie returns the salute.

"Welcome back, ma'am," Rayann chirps, wide-eyed.

"Thanks," Jolie returns somewhat wearily as she and Chieming board rear seat of the jeep.

"To the base, ma'am?" Rayann asks, shifting the gear into "Drive."

"No," Jolie says, "Not right now. Take us to the condo."

"Yes, ma'am," Rayann answers dutifully.

As Rayann pulls the jeep from the curb, Jolie turns to Chieming, "What's today's date, Chibi?"

Chieming hesitates a moment before answering quietly, "December 24. Christmas Eve."

Jolie says nothing for a long moment, her eyes cold.

"Rayann," Jolie says at last.

"Yes, ma'am," Rayann responds expectantly.

"Take us down to the veteran's cemetery," Jolie says somberly.

"Right away, ma'am," Rayann answers, merging into traffic.

Jolie sighs, "Ten days late. I'm always too late."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Jolie lays a bouquet of fresh flowers upon a flat gravestone from which extends a burning torch…an eternal flame. She fingers the engraved letters on the limestone surface lovingly, feeling the words…

**BELOVED HUSBAND AND FRIEND**

**LIEUTENANT-COLONEL JONAH MIGUEL**

**SPECIAL FORCES**

**CENTURION TEAM**

**May 14, U.C. 0080 – December 14, U.C. 0100**

**"_HIS LIGHT WILL SHINE FOREVER"_**

Jolie stands quietly over her late husband's grave, gazing solemnly at the gravestone, as she has every Christmas Eve for the past five years.

Chieming stands respectfully, quietly at Jolie's side, offering her own silent tribute to her fallen friend and former commanding officer. She steals a glance at Jolie…particularly her dark, soulful eyes. Chieming can see a myriad of emotions within those eyes…regret, emptiness, perhaps even a hint of anger…but not a single tear. Not a single one all these years.

They stand there quietly for a long, long time, until a distant church bell peals seven times.

"Chieming," Jolie whispers at last.

"I'm here," Chieming says reassuringly.

"Let's go," Jolie rasps, stepping away from her husband's gravestone towards the jeep parked on the driveway, aboard which Rayann has fallen asleep.

* * *

Approximately thirty minutes later, the jeep drops Jolie and Chieming off at the Utopia Towers, a luxury condominium complex located near the cultural and commercial center of Green Oasis City, a good eight kilometers from Garrison Noah.

Jolie has an officer's residence suite reserved for her at the base, but has opted for off-base civilian housing…and why not? Utopia Towers is one of the newest, most luxurious condominium complexes in all of Side 7. A gleaming, aerodynamically-shaped eighty-story skyscraper, Utopia Towers offers a panoramic view of Green Oasis City and Garrison Noah, as well as such amenities as a private park, tennis courts, gymnasium and spa, full-size swimming pools and Jacuzzis, and even a first-rate restaurant and coffee shop on the ground floor.

Jolie occupies the penthouse of the tower – one of the most expensive pieces of real estate in the Earth Sphere – something whose monthly rent or mortgage would be beyond the monthly salary of most Earth Federation Forces officers, but Major Jolie Minh-Miguel is not "most Earth Federation Forces officers." In light of her unique abilities, Jolie is the most valuable asset that the Earth Federation Forces have, so keeping her happy (including supplying all the creature comforts that she could want) is part of the price that the Federation is willing to pay to maintain this asset.

The private elevator car opens into penthouse, and Jolie and Chieming step forward into a spacious, modernly furnished den area. They are greeted by Ms. Davies, Jolie's maid.

"Ma'am," Ms. Davies, a tall, slim Englishwoman of about forty, says deferentially, bowing her head to her employer, "Welcome home. It's so good to see you and Miss Chieming again."

"Good to see you too, Cynthia," Jolie says, habitually addressing her domestic by first name, "Missed you…and your cooking."

Ms. Davies smiles as she places steaming cups of freshly brewed tea on the coffee table in the den, "I have a vegetable casserole in the oven…should be ready in another ten minutes."

"Cyn, I don't know what I'd do without you," Jolie says sincerely, but wearily, "Thank you."

As Ms. Davies steps into the kitchen to monitor the casserole, Jolie and Chieming flop into the comfortable sofas in the den.

Jolie reaches for a cylindrical ceramic container on the table, from which she extracts a single cigarette (Chieming not being a smoker), inserts the ciggie loosely between her lips, and lights it.

Jolie closes her eyes as she exhales a column of smoke.

Chieming watches her friend quietly for a moment before remarking, "You seem tired."

"I _am_ tired," Jolie admits, emphasizing the verb, "How long have I been on this combat treadmill now, Chieming? Seven years? Eight?"

"You _can_ get off anytime you want to," Chieming offers candidly, "Or at least you can when your current commission runs out next year."

"That's what I told myself three years ago," Jolie sighs, "But I reenlisted."

"Of course you did," Chieming observes with a wry smile, "What else would you have done with yourself if you hadn't?"

"That's a damn good question," Jolie confesses, flicking ash off the end of her cigarette into an ashtray.

Chieming leans forward towards Jolie meaningfully, "You should go and find the answer to that question while you're still young enough for it to matter. You're not going to be twenty-four forever, you know?"

"You're probably right," Jolie allows, "Maybe…"

Chieming sighs, "You just aren't the same anymore."

"Don't I know it," Jolie says bitterly.

"What I mean is," Chieming begins, "You were always so sure about what you wanted and how you were going to get it. But now…"

"Now, I don't know which way to turn," Jolie finishes.

Jolie rises from the sofa and ambles towards the mantel over the fireplace. On the mantel are various framed photographs…of the Centurion Team, of Jolie and Jonah when the two of them were just teenagers, and, acquired by Jolie during a chance meeting a year earlier with a retired Earth Federation Forces officer who had once served with her father, a photograph of 1Lt. Dominic Minh in his youth…a fresh cadet out of the Federal Forces Officer's Academy.

Jolie gazes pensively at the photographs of her late father and late husband, "My entire family was military…and they gave their lives in the line of duty. Maybe that's going to be my fate too."

Jolie's broodings are cut short by Ms. Davie's announcement that dinner is served.

* * *

At 21:00, dinner long since consumed, Jolie again sits in the den, clad in a cotton bathrobe. She has a glass of burgundy on the coffee table, lit cigarette in ashtray, and a hardcover edition of Tolstoy's _War and Peace _in hand. The book was a gift to Jolie from her best friend and one-time commanding officer, Athena Ibaz (now known as Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi of the Shambala Republic).

For three years now, Jolie has been attempting to get through the text, but remains mired in the first of the work's four component books. Jolie finds the novel dauntingly dense and yet, surprisingly, has also found herself able to relate to a number of its characters and themes.

Chieming emerges in the den, seemingly surprised to find Jolie there, "You've got your face buried in that book again?"

"I'm trying to finish it," Jolie answers dryly, turning the page.

Chieming grins, "This is one battle you aren't winning. You've been 'trying' for three years now, and I think you've maybe gotten through fifty pages so far."

"It's a good read," Jolie remarks.

"Probably," Chieming replies, "But wouldn't you rather go down to the club tonight?"

"Why?" Jolie asks.

Chieming glares at Jolie.

"Let me change, then," Jolie says with a reluctant sigh.

Jolie disappears into her bedroom and opens her dresser, finding a closet full of identical Earth Federation Forces uniform jackets, skirts, and overcoats.

"Damn," Jolie grouses.

Chieming, entering the bedroom, asks, "What's wrong?"

Jolie points at the row of identical uniforms inside her closet.

Chieming cannot suppress a giggle, "Time to update the wardrobe?"

"Time to throw the whole damn lot out," Jolie snarls as she pulls on a freshly ironed uniform jacket, "I've got to stop by at Fendi or Armani one of these days."

Chieming extends a green box wrapped with a red bow towards Jolie, "Until you do…Merry Christmas!"

Jolie smiles as she accepts the box, "You really shouldn't have, Chibi. I didn't even get you anything this year…"

Chieming nods, biting her lip, "I know, but you're forgiven because you protected my Eric out there, like you always do. You brought him back alive and well to me again, and that's the only gift I need."

"'Your' Eric, huh?" Jolie says, smiling at last, "You two are getting serious, aren't you?"

"Serious enough that we've been engaged for a year," Chieming says warmly, blushing.

"Don't wait longer than you have to," Jolie says cryptically, throwing an overcoat over her uniform before turning her attention back to the box, "So what did you get me this year? A paperweight to chuck at you or Amy or Rayann when I'm in a bad mood?"

Chieming laughs, "Just open it and you'll find out."

Jolie tears through the wrapping. Within the box is a long, white woolen scarf.

"This is great," Jolie enthuses, draping the scarf over her neck, and putting her officer's hat on her head, "How do I look?"

Chieming grins, "Like a certain Special Forces officer I used to know…name of Athena Ibaz."

"Perfect," Jolie replies, as she leads the way to a night on the town.

* * *

The White Phoenix Nightclub, formerly the Andromeda Nightclub, is located at 254 Ahrgama Boulevard in the heart of Green Oasis City's fashionable entertainment district. Amidst the garish neon lighting of neighboring clubs, the White Phoenix's relatively demure exterior décor, rendered in a tasteful, early 20th Century art deco style, evinces an understated elegance that belies the energy within the club's walls.

The old Andromeda Nightclub was once frequented by young Earth Federation Forces' officers from Garrison Noah, including the original Centurion Team, before the Phobos War. In U.C. 0102, Jolie bought the establishment from the Andromeda's owners, had the club redecorated, and reopened it a year later as the White Phoenix Nightclub.

During the past two years, the White Phoenix has grown into one of the trendiest hotspots in the Earth Sphere – a place to see and be seen among the hipsters and jet set. The entertainment (including live bands, DJ/dance nights, and, in the early morning hours, blues, jazz, and acoustic music showcases) covers a vast spectrum of tastes, and many visit the White Phoenix just on the chance that its famous proprietor, the Federation's hero of the Phobos War, might just show up on some random night…as she is known to do five or six times a year.

Jolie and Chieming are greeted by two handsome young doormen at the entrance to the club, and then step inside.

The interior of the club retains the cosmic-themed décor of its days as the Andromeda, although Jolie has added some unique flourishes such as select paintings by her late husband, Jonah Miguel. A number of the club's guests are young Earth Federation Forces officers and cadets, but a larger number are stylishly dressed young civilians (few over the age of thirty). Saturday night, predictably, is disco night…and a pulsating beat emanates from the club's mighty amplifier system, the groove shaping itself according to the DJ's directives.

Jolie nods approvingly; business is everything she could hope it could be.

The club manager, a young Greek man named Philip, greets Jolie and Chieming with a charming smile as he spots them, "Major Minh, Captain Noah…good to have you here."

"Business looks great tonight, Phillip," Jolie says, letting Philip take her overcoat, hat, and scarf and guide her and Chieming to a private booth, "You've done a terrific job here."

"Thank you, ma'am," Philip answers, "but it's your notoriety that draws them in."

As if to affirm Philip's remark, the club patrons who spot Jolie turn excitedly to offer toasts to her, applaud, or accost her for autographs.

"See what I mean?" Philip grins, fending off the crowd from Jolie.

Jolie does find herself taken aback by the attention from people she's never met (and a number of which she doesn't care to get to know), uncomfortable with the celebrity status that has gradually snowballed around her since the end of the Phobos War.

Philip finally succeeds in leading Jolie and Chieming to a private booth reserved for Jolie's use towards the back of the club; two security men stand guard to assure that they are not disturbed.

"It's wilder here than I remember," Jolie observes as she pulls out a bottle of champagne from a silver ice bucket, pouring a glass for Chieming and another for herself.

The two friends exchange a toast, and Chieming responds to Jolie's observation with, "It only seems that way to you because you don't get out much these days."

"The place felt much more intimate when it was the Andromeda," Jolie says, looking at some old photographs on the wall that are a part of the nightclub's décor, photographs of people long gone…

Behind Jolie and Chieming looms a large painting – an abstract mural of gradually deepening blue…"Blue World," by Jonah Miguel.

"It is Christmas Eve, remember," Chieming adds, "The people here are probably even more hammered than they normally are."

"You know," Jolie muses, "Maybe you were right. Maybe I should consider not reenlisting when my commission expires. I could run this place full time."

Jolie takes a sip from her flute of champagne and begins to relax for the first time in…even she isn't sure how long. Maybe she can just sit back and enjoy this for a while…

Maybe…

The appearance of Colonel Christina McKenzie, Director of SNRI, and Major Eric Gardner chase such pleasant thoughts away.

Jolie scowls as they approach.

Eric sidles up to Chieming, planting a warm kiss on his fiancée's cheek, "Miss me?"

Chieming replies, "Not so much as I hope the enemy does."

Col. Christina McKenzie, an attractive, red-haired woman in her early forties, takes a seat next to Jolie. The Director of the SNRI is among the most formidable officers in the Earth Federation Forces, and a good, trusted friend of Jolie and Chieming.

That does not necessarily mean, however, that Jolie is pleased to see Christina, a fact affirmed by the hostile glare that Jolie directs at the colonel. The hostile sentiments are directed not so much at the senior officer personally as they are towards the unpleasant tidings that Christina undoubtedly brings.

"Major," Col. Christina says, by way of small talk, "It's good to see you again."

Jolie resists an urge to roll her eyes and replies wanly, "Yeah, I've been getting a lot of that lately."

So saying, Jolie nonetheless pours out a flute of champagne and hands it to her superior officer. They exchange a toast.

Not taking her eyes off the SNRI Director, Jolie says piercingly, "You didn't come here from your office to welcome me back…or to offer holiday greetings."

Christina's expression is somber, and a glance at even Major Eric Gardner's uncharacteristically grim demeanor tells Jolie that the news, whatever it might be, is momentous.

Christina comes to the point, "It's the Omega Gundam. We lost it three weeks ago. Two agents of unknown origin penetrated our security at Moffett, blasted through our security forces, and have taken it to a location we're still working to determine."

Jolie nonchalantly takes another sip of champagne before saying offhandedly, "You fucked up big time."

Eric and Chieming draw in deep breaths, afraid to exhale.

Christina smiles and nods sheepishly, "We did."

That seems to satisfy Jolie, whose scowl dissolves at last, "So Eric and I have been assigned get it back?"

"Just Major Gardner for now," Christina replies, "Unfortunately, we don't even know where the prototype is at the moment. We've got a few possible leads; Major Gardner will check them out. You just remain on standby. When we do locate the prototype, we'll need you to move in quickly."

Jolie says nothing, draining her flute of champagne, her lack of protest taken, as Christina knows, as compliance.

Philip approaches and hands Jolie an envelope, "A message for you, ma'am."

"On paper?" Jolie observes, taking the elegant, cream-colored envelope from the handsome young manager, "What is this? The Middle Ages?"

Philip smiles and shrugs as Jolie opens the envelope. She extracts a card of the same color, but made from expensive, high-grade stationery paper.

Jolie reads the contents of the card, then pockets it, and rises from her seat, "You folks enjoy the rest of the evening."

"Where are you going?" Chieming asks.

Jolie does not reply.

Col. McKenzie adds, "Just remember that you're on standby alert, Major."

Jolie throws back a glare that, if verbalized, would probably come out as something like, _Go fuck yourself._

Philip brings Jolie her officer's hat, overcoat, and white scarf.

Jolie quickly dons these items and leaves without another word.

Col. McKenzie sighs, pouring out what remains of the champagne for Chieming, Eric, and herself, "She's never been easy to talk to."

"It's part of her charm," Major Gardner says wryly.

"Might be a good idea to track her," Col. McKenzie concludes, sipping from her flute of champagne.

* * *

The following morning, Jolie is aboard Shambala Aerospace Flight 111 from Green Oasis Spaceport, Side 7 to Shambala City, Side 3…a grueling ten hour flight.

Fortunately, Athena booked Jolie into business class.

Jolie stares forlornly out into the dark cosmos, gazing upon the grey-hued skies of the Earth in the distance, occasional sparks of intense light indicating the operation of colony laser devices no longer used for war, but as the primary tool of the Earth Federation and the Shambala Republic's joint project, Operation: Rebirth…an attempt to use the colony laser technology to gradually undo the nuclear winter created by the Zeon colony drops of U.C. 0100.

_So much death…so much waste_, Jolie laments.

Jolie's focus then sharpens. Even at the Green Oasis Spaceport, before she boarded the flight, Jolie had sensed something…someone, stalking her. Two drinks and three hours into the flight, Jolie decides to take action.

Jolie rises from her seat, making her way towards the lavatories, barely glancing at the other passengers, either asleep or consumed by their novels or electronic devices.

Five minutes later, the passenger in Business Class Row 17, Seat B turns his head back, looking down the long central aisle of the space shuttlecraft.

Another five minutes pass, and Jolie still has not returned to her seat.

The passenger in Row 17, Seat B rises from his seat and heads back towards the lavatories.

A pair of feminine hands extends from behind a curtain and pulls him quietly, but violently, into a storage area.

Jolie forces the man to the ground, bringing her meager 40 kilograms to bear on his much larger frame, her bent right knee on top of his larynx.

Jolie presses her face into his, snarling, "You're one of Christina's men…SNRI Internal Security Department."

"First Lieutenant James Griffin, ma'am," the tall, gaunt man croaks out, "Col. McKenzie…sent me…for your…security."

"The hell she did," Jolie mutters, taking her knee off of Griffin's larynx and allowing him to stand now that she has relieved him of his sidearm and has it pointed at him.

"I should jettison you out the airlock," Jolie says menacingly, "but that would endanger the other people on this shuttlecraft. When we land at Shambala City, I want you off my tail, or there's going to be a third hole between your eyes."

To emphasize her point, Jolie presses the muzzle of the pistol against Griffin's forehead.

Griffin nods, his throat dry.

"Back to your seat, Lieutenant," Jolie hisses.

The Internal Security Department officer complies.

"They don't make security officers like they used to," Jolie sighs, pocketing Griffin's sidearm.

* * *

Seven hours later, Flight 111 docks at the Shambala City International Spaceport. Passengers disembark, and Jolie makes sure that 1Lt. Griffin boards Flight 79 back to Green Oasis just seven minutes after he disembarks from Flight 111.

Satisfied, Jolie makes her way from the terminal to the street, carrying the black valise that represents the only luggage she carries with her.

A sleek limousine bearing the flag of the Shambala Republic on one side of its hood and the flag of the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister on the other pulls up to the curb in front of Jolie.

An elegantly uniformed driver emerges from the limousine, pronouncing in a crisp English accent, "Major Minh-Miguel?"

"You are?" Jolie asks.

"I'm Brian," the chauffeur replies, "Madame Deputy Prime Minister Minerva's driver. She sent me for you, ma'am."

_Always classy, that 'Thena_, Jolie thinks to herself.

"Thanks for coming," Jolie says, boarding the back seat of the limo.

Brian takes to the driver's seat, "The Deputy Prime Minister is waiting for you at _La Brasserie d'_ _Chute d'eau_."

Jolie attempts to relax in the comfortable environment of the limousine's back seat, but she feels an inexplicable tension. It's been three years since she's seen Athena, and Jolie senses that Athena has invited her to Shambala City today for much more than lunch and old times…

* * *

_La Brasserie d'_ _Chute d'eau_ is one of Shambala City's most elegant and exclusive dining venues, and its menu is considered by many a prestigious gourmet to feature the finest French cuisine off of Earth. It is popular among Side 3's elite, including its media celebrities, professional athletes, and political and military leaders.

Even those who are not connoisseurs of fine French cuisine are unable to argue against the establishment's extraordinary décor, including the balconied waterfalls that give the restaurant its name.

The _maître d' _of the establishment leads Jolie to a private balcony, where a table for two is set with finest crystalware and silverware.

"The Deputy Prime Minister will join you in a moment, Major," the _maître d'_ says cordially.

"Thank you," Jolie replies.

The _maître d'_ departs, and Jolie is left for a moment to appreciate the beauty of the artificial waterfalls and gardens that comprise the establishment's décor. The sound of the water falling upon the marble basins below is soothing.

Jolie senses a familiar presence, and turns to a familiar sight.

The intervening five years have been kind, very, very kind, to the countenance and figure of Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi, once the Duchess of Zeon, and also once Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz, Deputy Director of the Earth Federation Special Forces. Having turned twenty-six the previous September, Minerva looks a good five years younger than that, a point helped by the growth of her fine, honey-colored hair to beyond the shoulder length that she had maintained during her time as an Earth Federation Forces officer a half decade earlier and the maintenance of her willowy figure. Balancing out this youthfulness, however, is the mature sophistication and elegance of dress that befits both her personality and her status – a tasteful beige pantsuit combination with a snow-white cravat for that extra hint of flare that has always been a part of Minerva's sense of style. Matching the color of her outfit are the elegantly tailored leather gloves on Minerva's hands, which conceal the fact that her left hand and arm is a cybernetic limb that replaces the natural appendage lost during the Phobos War.

Minerva takes in an eyeful of her old friend and makes a similar judgment about Jolie. Minerva has not seen Jolie for two years…not since Jolie attended Minerva's wedding. The intervening time might as well have been two minutes, for Jolie looks every bit the same as she had not just two years earlier, but since Minerva first met her some eight years ago, when she recruited a fifteen-year old Jolie from the streets of the slum colony of Industria after the teenager had helped her recover the stolen Centurion Gundam prototype.

Minerva cannot help smiling as she takes in Jolie's mode of dress…her Earth Federation Forces' duty uniform, complemented by her officer's hat, a dark topcoat draped over her shoulders, a white scarf, and a gold pocketwatch on a chain attached to the jacket's front pocket.

"Your fashion sense certainly has gotten much better, Major," Minerva says archly.

Jolie can no longer suppress her grin, "Those of who don't have any fashion sense do the next best thing: imitate those who do."

The two friends laugh and embrace warmly. There is true affection between them…they have always been like sisters…more than sisters.

"I'm so glad to see you, Jolie," Minerva smiles, "I've missed you so much."

"You're getting all mushy in your old age, 'Thena," Jolie returns the smile and the warmth.

"After all these years, you're still calling me that," Minerva chides gently, "Nobody else ever calls me 'Athena' anymore."

"To the rest of the world, you're Minerva Zabi," Jolie says, "but to me, you'll always be 'Thena."

"And to me, you'll always be stubborn," Minerva replies, "It's good to see that certain things manage to endure, even as so many other things change."

"You look great," Jolie compliments sincerely.

"Back at you," Minerva returns.

"So," Jolie says, "Madame Deputy Prime Minister…"

"Please," Minerva says with a wan smile, "That title makes me sound so old."

"How about Mrs. Hathaway Noah, then?" Jolie teases.

Minerva blushes mildly, "I like the sound of that much more."

"You finally got what you wanted," Jolie says, happy for her friend, "Just like I told you way back when."

"And I always thought I was the smart one," Minerva says self-mockingly, "Maybe you were the one who really knew better."

The two seat themselves at the table. A waiter approaches, "Drinks, ma'am?"

Jolie says, "Dry martini. Two of them."

"One," Minerva corrects, "and a glass of organic whole milk."

The waiter thanks the two young women and goes to the bar to prepare their drinks.

"Organic whole milk?" Jolie says in surprise, "Being married really has changed you, 'Thena."

"Life looks different when you're twenty-six than when you're eighteen, Jolie," Minerva says, "Especially since I'm retired from the military, chances are I'm going to be living past thirty after all."

"Speak for yourself," Jolie says sarcastically, inserting a cigarette between her lips and lighting up.

Minerva begins coughing, fanning away the tobacco smoke, "Jolie…please."

Jolie quickly butts out the cigarette, observing, "You really have changed a lot."

Minerva says matter-of-factly, "I gave up smoking months ago."

"Sounds like the right thing to do, although as unexpected as all hell," Jolie says, as the waiter brings their drinks, "Maybe one of these days I'll learn how to live healthier too."

"I remember you'd quit smoking a few years ago," Minerva says, almost afraid to broach the subject.

Jolie says nothing more on the subject.

Minerva grimaces briefly and places a hand over her abdomen reflexively…an increasingly habitual gesture for her of late.

Jolie observes, "You're not lactose intolerant, are you?"

Minerva says, "No. This job gives me ulcers, though."

Jolie grins, "I guess being a state minister is way harder even than being a Special Forces team leader, huh?"

Minerva says, "Not necessarily. They're different kinds of challenges. Having done both, I certainly know the differences."

The subject turns in the direction of old friends, as Minerva asks, "How's the squad doing? I haven't seen or heard from any of them since the wedding."

"Well, you see Chieming at family gatherings almost every month," Jolie says, "Karim and his wife Adanna have a son already, born last year. He's on reserve status now, although he's told me he's ready to be reactivated if I need him. Tomo has returned to civilian life; he was discharged a few months ago and last I heard, he's starting his own security firm. Geoff is commanding Tycho Team now…he's finally made First Lieutenant, can you believe it?"

"Geoff 'Casanova' Sutcliffe…a Lieutenant?" Minerva shudders.

Minerva and Jolie burst into laughter at the thought.

Minerva smiles, "You're doing my legacy proud as Centurion Leader."

"I'm just filling your boots," Jolie sighs, "You'll always be the _real_ Centurion Leader, 'Thena."

"Don't sell yourself short," Minerva replies, reverting to "big sister" mode, "I saw leadership potential in you even back then…which is why I made you my executive officer even before you really had the experience to qualify for it. From what I've heard from Bright and Chieming, you're doing fine…better than fine. The decisions and choices you've made aren't so different from the ones I would have made, and you've gotten the results."

The waiter stops by again to take Minerva and Jolie's orders; both vegetarians, they each order light, meatless fare.

"'Thena," Jolie says solemnly, "Level with me. You didn't invite me here from Side 7 just to have lunch and reminisce."

Minerva looks straight at Jolie with that penetrating gaze that Jolie remembers well, "You're right. Jolie…I need your help. I want for you to join the Shambala Defense Guard."

Jolie takes the proposition as if she had expected it, taking a sip from the martini before answering, "No."

"I know you've been following the news," Minerva says, "There's a growing schism within the Shambala government, Jolie. My people are on one side of it, and Meizuar Ronah and his supporters are on the other. If we don't gain control of the situation, it'll tear Shambala apart."

Jolie fixes Minerva in a glare, "I'm an Earth Federation Forces officer, 'Thena. Unless my higher-ups tell me otherwise, I don't give a fuck about what goes on in the Shambala Republic. Your political pissing contests are your problem."

Minerva looks severely at Jolie, giving the barest shake of her head as she says, "I can't believe that you, of all people, would be so blind as to let a flag define your worldview."

"Some of us actually value loyalty, Lt. Col. Ibaz," Jolie says acidly, "My father was an Earth Federation Forces officer…so was my husband…and the man who saved my life when I was a little girl. Maybe none of that means a thing to you, but it does to me."

The water crashes loudly from the falls, growing louder still, seeming to fill the balcony with white noise. Two friends, close as sisters…closer, but they cannot hear each other. Not anymore.

* * *

An hour later, lunch has been disposed with. Neither young woman felt inclined to consume much, leaving the bulk of their meals, taken in tense, awkward silence, on their plates.

They walk together out the steps of the front entrance of the restaurant.

Minerva breaks the silence at last, "Jolie: you should carefully reconsider. We could work together again, like we did when we were Centurions. I asked you once before to make a difference with me…come with me to make a difference again."

Jolie replies flatly, "I already gave you my answer."

"Jolie," Minerva says quietly, grimly, "You need to realize that if you insist on doing it your way…you and I could end up on opposite sides."

"Maybe," Jolie says, "But you were wrong about one thing: this isn't about flags; it's about loyalties that run deeper than friendship."

Minerva says nothing. There is nothing more to say.

Minerva and Jolie walk away in opposite directions.

* * *

A day later, Jolie arrives at the Green Oasis City Spaceport, deeply disturbed. Maybe she shouldn't have been so uncompromising with Athena, but the last thing that she needed was…

A dozen uniformed SNRI security agents surround Jolie, aiming their sidearms at her.

"What is this?!" Jolie demands.

Col. Christina McKenzie approaches, ordering the security agents to stand down, "Major Minh-Miguel, I need you to come with me."

"For what?!" Jolie snarls.

Christina, her expression grim, replies, "Major…you're the prime suspect in the theft of the Omega Gundam."


	3. EPISODE 2: CHRISTIAN

**EPISODE 2: CHRISTIAN**

"This is archival video taken from our reconnaissance units operating at our active installation in L5 orbit," Col. Christina McKenzie says, "Check it out."

The video, time-marked as 02:44, 26-December-0105, is taken from an Earth Federation Forces installation located within L5. The flickering video screen image displays the menacing silhouette of the Omega Gundam, illuminated by electronic enhancement and brought into clearer focus by running the video at 1/10 speed.

With a grace that belies the powerful war machine's considerable armored bulk, the Omega Gundam twists and winds its way around the defensive fire of Earth Federation Forces mobile suits and warships, and draws its powerful hyper beam rifle to blast the Federal Forces units to fiery oblivion. The Omega Gundam then goes on to carry out a brutal, systematic dismantling of the Federal Forces' satellite installation…sparing neither men nor machines.

Christina clicks the remote control, and another video image appears onscreen, this one time-marked at 05:06, 27-December-0106. An Earth Federation Forces supply convoy escorted by a squad of Jegan-IVs falls to a sudden assault by the Omega Gundam, which makes short work of the MS and the supply ship with its multiple beam cannon.

"And finally, this…" Christina says gravely, clicking the remote again.

The final sequence, time-marked as 07:19, 27-December-0106…barely five hours ago…shows the Omega Gundam tearing its way relentlessly through a team of SNRI MS units…advanced Strike Jegans piloted by elite Special Forces pilots, downing the highly skilled, experienced pilots with precision strikes from its Psychom weapons systems.

Major Jolie Minh-Michaels, working her way through her sixth cigarette of the hour, finally sets the cigarette aside and shakes her head, "Why the hell are you showing me all this? I already know all too well what the Omega Gundam can do. I've test-piloted the damn thing on and off for eighteen months now. I know every system of that machine backwards and forwards."

Christina nods, "Which is why you're a subject of interest. The only person more familiar with the O-G's systems is its designer, Dr. Camille Vidan, and frankly, you probably know much more about its operational capabilities than even he does."

"This is a fucking waste of time," Jolie mutters, butting out her cigarette.

"Jolie," Christina says with deadly earnest, "You need to understand that it's taking all of my and General Noah's influence to keep you out of the brig right now. If it were up to General Blackhead, you'd have been shot at the spaceport today, so drop the fucking attitude and cooperate with me here!"

"What exactly do you want me to do?!" Jolie demands.

"For starters," Christina answers, "You can be upfront about exactly what you were doing at Shambala City the past two days."

"Visiting an old friend," Jolie says matter-of-factly.

"What friend?" Christina asks, already knowing the answer.

"'Thena," Jolie spits back, "…Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi of the Shambala Republic. Former Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz of the Special Forces. Duchess…"

"That's enough," Christina snaps, "You went to see Deputy Prime Minister Zabi because…"

"Because she asked me to see her," Jolie says.

"There's more to it than that, Major," Christina persists.

"Fine," Jolie snarls, long since having lost patience for the discussion (such as it is), "'Thena asked me to resign from the Federal Forces and join the Shambala Defense Guard. I told her 'no,' then headed home. Then you and your goons hauled me here at gunpoint. Does that answer your question, Colonel?"

"It'll do for now," Christina replies, "At least enough to keep you out of any more trouble."

Jolie mutters something unintelligible, and Christina decides it's just as well to ignore it and press on.

Christina replays the video, and with a movement of her head, asks Jolie to watch it again, "Let's review this footage again: now, as an eight-year combat veteran and an ace MS pilot, give me your opinion of the action that you see."

Jolie reluctantly views the footage again, and then remarks with a shrug, "Whoever the pilot is, he's good. Damn good."

Christina nods, "You said earlier that you know the Omega Gundam's combat systems better than anyone else alive, and I agree. Do you think anybody other than yourself could pilot the Omega Gundam like this?"

Jolie shrugs again, "Yeah. There are lots of ace pilots out there…with the Federation, with the Shambala Defense Guard, Crossbones Vanguard, ex-Zeon…even with the private crime syndicates. I'm not the only MS ace in the world, Chris. Remember that Kyoko Yamaguchi who fought for Miguel during the war? She could duplicate pretty much all of my moves, and I can pretty much duplicate any of hers."

Christina nods, "That may well be true; even so, Jolie, you can't tell me that you don't recognize the movements of the Omega Gundam…the way it hunts down and eliminates targets…the way it draws in the enemy for the kill…the way it evades enemy fire…are all very idiosyncratic of _your _unique combat style."

Jolie bites out through clenched teeth, "I've already told you: I didn't hijack any damn mobile suit. I was at Shambala City when all this went down…or on my way back here from Shambala City."

Christina nods once again, "I know. Frankly, that's the only thing that's stopped the High Command from officially indicting you on any charges…that one alibi."

"I don't believe this," Jolie sighs, leaning back in her seat.

Christina switches the videoscreen from the combat footage to two plates with identical wave patterns illustrated on them, "Combat maneuvers can, perhaps, be duplicated by an expert pilot, but there's no way to duplicate the brainwave synapses of a specific Newtype. Check out these two plates."

Jolie recognizes them as EEG wave patterns.

"The set on the left was recorded by our instruments from the cockpit of the Omega Gundam during the attacks," Christina explains, "The set on the right was collected from the Omega Gundam during earlier test flights and from the White Phoenix Gundam during combat sorties."

Jolie says nothing…stupefied by what she sees: an identical match.

"Th' hell…?" Jolie begins.

Christina says, "Now you know why the High Command zeroed in on you."

Jolie sneers, "So…when does the court martial begin?"

Christina smiles, "The Federation still considers you indispensable…especially with the Omega Gundam in hostile hands, and thanks to General Noah's intervention on your behalf, you're going to avoid any sort of disciplinary or legal action until further information is uncovered that clearly implicates you. In the meantime, however, you've been removed from the active combat roster, Jolie."

Jolie rises, taking her overcoat from where it has been sprawled on top of Christina's desk, "Guess I'll have more time to oversee the club…"

"You wish," Christina says, flashing another grin at Jolie, "They've taken you off the active combat roster; they haven't suspended you from duty. Let's just say that for now, they're reassigning you from active combat towards recruit development."

"They're expecting me to babysit?" Jolie complains bitterly, "Forget it. I have enough cadets assigned to me as it is."

Ignoring Jolie's protests, Christina continues, "SNRI has been developing a young man, currently seventeen years of age, as a Newtype for quite some time now. He has tremendous talent and potential…rivaling yours, in fact…and he might even be a bigger pain in the ass."

"Pfft…tell me more," Jolie replies wryly.

Christina says plainly, "His name is Christian Ray."

Jolie is silent for a long moment before saying, "Christian…_Ray_?"

Christina nods, "Christian Ray, born in September, U.C. 0088, is the only child of Captain Amuro Ray and Velotrica Irma. Amuro and Velotrica met when both of them were Karaba operatives during the war against the Titans. They fell in love. They later had a falling out before Amuro left the Karaba to join the AEUG Space Forces in the war against Haman Karn's Axis Neo Zeon in early U.C. 0088…but not before Velotrica had become pregnant with Amuro's child."

"Tell me more," Jolie says, much more earnestly this time.

"Velotrica gave birth to a son…named him Christian, just a few months before the end of the Axis War. Amuro never knew about this son…Velotrica never told him. She raised him herself for six years until she died in U.C. 0094. Accident during a supply run, I hear."

"Yeah, you hear…" Jolie remarks, knowing the brutality the Federation is capable of in the pursuit of its goals.

"After the deaths of both Amuro and Velotrica," Christina continues, "the Federation adopted Christian and began preparing him to one day succeed his father as the Federal Forces' top MS ace. For the past nine years, Christian Ray has been the Federation's best-kept secret: even I didn't know he existed until a little over a year ago. This will come as a surprise to you, Jolie, but the Centurion Gundam was originally designed with Christian in mind, although we deployed it years ahead of schedule when you and then Jonah came along."

"So supposing I agree to train this kid," Jolie says, her confrontational demeanor returning, "Just what is it that the Federation expects me to do with him?"

"Teach him everything you know," Christina says, "He's talented, but raw…just like you were when Athena…excuse me, when Minerva brought you into the Federal Forces. Jolie, to be frank, you're going to be training him to replace you in the event that one day…"

"Yeah," Jolie says with a sigh, "I know. Besides, if I'm not cleared of this Omega Gundam business, that day could come sooner rather than later."

Christina's silence affirms Jolie's assessment.

"I'll take this assignment on one condition," Jolie finally says, "The Federation lets me train this kid as I see fit, on my terms. The High Command interferes with what I do, and the deal's off."

* * *

Luna 2 was once the bulwark of the Earth Federation Forces' power in the Earth Sphere – the home base of the Earth Federation Space Armada and MS Corps, from which the counteroffensive operations against the Archduchy of Zeon were launched and supplied in three wars.

There was a time when Luna 2 was a repository of the Earth Federation Forces' cutting-edge war technology. It was at Luna 2 that the components of the original RX-78 Gundam were produced before being sent to Side 7 for final assembly, and it was also from Luna 2 that the first _Pegasus_, _Salamis_, and _Magellan_-class warships were assembled and deployed.

Time trundles on…and Luna 2 is no longer a bulwark of either overwhelming military power or cutting-edge technology for the Earth Federation Forces. Far from being a mighty manufacturing center from which powerful mobile suits that can devastate entire space colonies or cities are constructed, Luna 2 is now a sad relic at which even the latrines no longer function properly.

That last, however, is more a result of abuse than disuse…

* * *

"Shut off the water main, Corporal, NOW!!!" Staff Sergeant Carter Mayer bellows as he is splashed by a torrent of cold, foul water.

"No can do, sir!" the equally bedraggled Corporal Buttaci calls back, "The main's not the problem, sir! This is backflow, sir!"

Indeed, every sink, every shower, every laundry unit, every toilet on Decks 11-16 of the southern quadrant of Luna-2 is cascading sewage, which seeps in every direction that it is free to flow.

"How the hell did this happen?!" SSgt. Mayer demands, as he frantically searches for something…anything to stem the rising tide of foul water.

"I can't be sure, sir," Corporal Buttaci replies, even as he desperately (and vainly) drags a couple of metal buckets out of a utility closet, "but I'll bet you anything that Cadet Ray has something to do with it!"

"That damn punk!" Mayer rages.

The staff sergeant has no time to say more before a cascade of putrid, coffee-colored water surges towards him and Corporal Buttaci.

His eyes growing wide with horror, Buttaci bites out, "_Ma Vaffanbagno_! _Mamma mia!"_

The two Earth Federation Forces instructor NCOs scramble out of the onrushing sewage water, cursing and screaming.

* * *

Watching in amused delight from the safety of an overhanging catwalk is a pair of wild, youthful eyes that rest beneath a wild growth of rust-colored hair.

_Those goofs have always been full of it, now they're gonna have all over them too!_

Seventeen year old Christian Ray has his father's hair and eyes, and his mother's delicate features and complexion, an auspicious combination that has resulted in a strikingly handsome visage. Taller than either of his parents, with a lean, wiry frame that appears almost monkeylike, and clad in an Earth Federation Forces' officer cadet uniform with its collar unbuttoned and flared outward, Christian projects an air of anything but propriety.

_Love to stay and watch the fun, but I've got places to go_, the youth resolves has he surveys his handiwork for a final instant before scrambling into ventilation system conduit that conveys him to a storage area with mobile work pods…Hydrosuits…which are left attended as all personnel scramble with makeshift insulation (beddings, foam packaging materials, surplus tires, etc.) to stem the advancing tide of foul water.

Christian, throwing a backpack into the cockpit of a red-painted Hydrosuit, closes the canopy and brings the utility mecha to life.

"Freedom, here I come!" Christian rubs his hands with mischievous glee as the HS comes to life.

The HS sails above a mob of Federal Forces soldiers, who are oblivious to the work mecha as they scramble to save their quarters, work areas, and training facilities from inundation.

"How dry I am, how wet I'll be…" Christian sings as the Hydrosuit exits through a utility port.

"Ladies and germs," Christian announces to no one, "Elvis has left the building…"

Christian feels an incomparable sense of exhilaration as he launches into the star-filled cosmos…

_I can make it to Side 7 in this thing in about two hours, tops_, Christian reasons, _Then hop a flight for the Shambala Republic and…_

"Uh-oh," Christian says, a spark flashing from his head.

"Uh-oh" comes in the form of an old RGM-79 GM…a twenty-five year old piece of machinery whose few remaining units the Federal Forces have relegated to routine patrols of areas considered non-vital.

The GM looms menacingly over the Hydrosuit for a moment before passing over it, apparently disinterested in the smaller utility machine.

"Whew," Christian exhales, doubling the thrust output of the Hydrosuit.

Christian's relief is short-lived as the GM doubles back to overtake and loom over his Hydrosuit again.

"Aw, crap," Christian mutters.

"You there, in the Hydrosuit," comes a voice over the HS's communications receiver, "You are not authorized to operate that utility mecha outside the designated work zone. Identify yourself and return to work zone immediately."

"Feh," is all Christian says as he pushes the HS's thrusters to maximum output.

The GM likewise follows suit. Antiquated though it might be, its combat-oriented thrust output and speed far outstrip that of even the best utility suit.

Christian knows he won't be able to outrun the GM.

"All righty then," Christian says softly, "You want to get close, I'll give you close.'

Christian shuts off the Hydrosuit's thruster and activates the magnetic pads in its landing gear.

The Hydrosuit magnetizes itself to the armor of the GM, as Christian planned it, right near the power/thruster pack.

The GM reaches back like a man attempting to scratch an inaccessible itch, looking equally ridiculous in the process.

"Stop reaching," Christian complains, "I'll scratch your itch right now."

So saying, Christian flips a few switches and the Hydrosuit extends a set of utility arms, which open several access hatches in the GM's backpack generator/thruster. A few seconds of work shuts down the GM's systems except for life support.

"Nighty night," Christian grins as the GM's camera eye goes from green to dark.

Christian disengages the magnetic pads and jets free of the GM's armor, apparently home free, but three more GMs and an equally ancient BALL mobile combat pod close in on him.

"Dance floor is getting crowded," Christian observes.

Christian waits for the GMs and the BALL to close in…closer…closer…close enough!

A quick burst of thrust and a twisting of the joystick propel the Hydrosuit to safety as the GMs and the BALL collide in a tangle of titanium arms and legs.

"Hah!" Christian enthuses.

The adolescent is so pleased with himself and his pursuer's predicament that he grows careless, and finds his Hydrosuit suddenly ensnared in the grip of yet another Federal Forces MS…a much more modern and powerful machine…a Strike Jegan.

The pleasant voice of Col. Christina McKenzie of SNRI, a voice that Christian has never heard before, comes through the Hydrosuit's communications monitor, "Cadet Ray, I presume?"

* * *

Two hours later, Christian grumbles and curses as he works a mop on Deck 11, condemned to clean up the mess he created in his latest attempt to escape from the Junior Officer's Academy at Luna 2.

"That's pretty much what it comes down to, SSgt. Mayer," Col. McKenzie says, "I think you've known for some time now that this day would come."

"Not a moment too soon," SSgt. Mayer replies darkly, still smelling of sewage, "Since that kid arrived here three years ago, he's been turning this place upside down. I don't care if his father was a war hero: the kid's a pain in the ass. You and your SNRI people are going to have your hands full, ma'am."

"We're ready for him," Col. McKenzie grins.

"Cadet Ray!" SSgt. Mayer shouts.

Christian pretends not to hear the NCO, sullenly continuing with his mopping.

"Cadet Ray, attention!" SSgt. Mayer repeats.

Christian drops the mop and marches towards the NCO, saluting carelessly and perfunctorily, "Sir!"

"Cadet Ray," SSgt. Mayer says, barely able to conceal the delight he feels at the prospect that his announcement will free him from this burden he has shouldered for the past two years, "This is Col. Christina McKenzie of SNRI. She will be taking you to Side 7's Garrison Noah to continue your training."

_Great, _Christian thinks, his spirits sagging, _another gang of idiots to escape from…well at least this one's a lady...fairly hot lady too. She must have been quite a babe when she was younger…still quite a babe now even though she's got to be pushing forty…_

Not evincing even the barest hint of enthusiasm, Christian says wearily, "Yes, sir."

Col. McKenzie extends a friendly hand and smile to the handsome youth, "Welcome to SNRI, Cadet Ray."

* * *

_January 1, U.C. 0106_

The Parliament of the Shambala Republic meets on the fifth anniversary of the founding of the nation, its highest elected officials gathered at Parliamentary Hall in Shambala City (built on the site of the former Zum Palace, since razed to the ground along with all other symbols of Zeon imperialism) to discuss not the past, but the Republic's future. Many issues are to be debated and resolved, though none without contention and controversy.

Defense Minister Meitzer Ronah addresses the assembled representatives from the speaker's podium, "I believe that it is absolutely and incontrovertibly vital to the interests of this Republic, ladies and gentlemen, that a larger portion of the national budget be allocated towards strengthening our defenses. The Earth Sphere may appear to be tranquil and secure, but the remnants of Zeon remain at large. Moreover, we have intelligence suggesting that the Earth Federation Forces are rebuilding their strength, and may pose a future threat to our sovereignty over the Earth Sphere."

From her seat behind the speaker's podium, to the lower right of the Prime Minister's seat, Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi can only smirk and resist an urge to roll her eyes…_Typical!_

"Furthermore," Ronah continues, his voice a powerful, booming echo, "I further urge my fellow representatives to expedite the approval of my proposition to reallocate at least half of the colony laser units now deployed for environmental reclamation work in Earth orbit for defense purposes."

Minerva has heard enough, rising to say, "Defense Minister Ronah, with all due respect, I submit my objection to that proposition."

The parliamentary assembly buzzes with dissent, divided in half.

Ronah bows his head deferentially, "Madame Deputy Prime Minister: I humbly wait to hear your reasoning."

"Reallocating the colony lasers towards combat operations would perceived as an act of war by the Earth Federation," Minerva says evenly, "I remind the Defense Minister that the Earth Federation Government is currently allied with us through the terms of the Jupiter Treaty of U.C. 0101, and that the terms of that treaty stipulate that neither the Federation nor our Republic would take military actions that would be reasonably perceived as a provocation of hostilities."

"Madame Deputy Prime Minister," Ronah says coolly, "I would like to ask: do you not consider the Federation's development of the Omega Gundam a provocation of hostilities?"

Curious murmurs of "Omega Gundam" fill the chamber, the very word "Gundam" creating a sensation of fear that permeates the assembly.

"The organization of the SNRI and the construction of the Omega Gundam is a clear indication of the Earth Federation's hostile intentions," Ronah persists, "You are not naïve, Madame Deputy Prime Minister. You yourself were once an Earth Federation Special Forces officer: you are very well aware of how the Federation's military apparatus operates, and what its ultimate goals are."

Before Minerva can respond, Prime Minister Artasia Daikun, still a ravishingly attractive woman in her mid-forties, rises, "Defense Minister Ronah, Deputy Prime Minister Zabi: I find myself in partial agreement with you both. Minister Ronah, I agree with the Deputy Prime Minister that there is no need to reallocate the colony lasers for combat purposes at this time; at the same time, however, the Federation's development of the Omega Gundam is disturbing. I am particularly concerned about this because according to our intelligence agency's latest data, the Federation has lost control of Omega Gundam and hostile entities have used it to attack Federation bases and warships in recent days. Those entities might well be hostile to our Republic as well. We must work with the Federation to locate and recover the Omega Gundam before it is used for catastrophic purposes."

Ronah and Minerva glare at each other silently for a moment before Ronah says with a smile that belies his seething anger, "Agreed, Madame Prime Minister."

"Agreed," Minerva sighs, taking her seat, placing her flesh-and-blood right hand over her abdomen.

Another stalemate in the battle of wills and duel of destinies.

* * *

Several hours later, Minerva returns home, bone tired, kicking off her pumps and putting her ample briefcase at its customary early evening position on top of the small cabinet in the entrance foyer. She slumps into the sofa in the spacious living room of the ranch house that she shares with her husband, National Intelligence Agency Director Hathaway Noah, in the rural districts of Shambala Colony…a zone of lush greenery, roaming horses, and grazing cattle located eight kilometers from the city center.

Minerva reaches down to rub her aching feet, noting that she's coming close to growing a blister on one of her toes. Minerva sighs. Sometimes, she misses her days as a combat officer in the Federal Forces. At least the uniform boots were easier on the feet than the heeled pumps she's been obligated to wear in her function as Deputy Prime Minister of the Shambala Republic.

Hathaway comes into the living room from the kitchen.

"Hey," Hathaway says gently, kissing Minerva sweetly on the neck, "Tough day at the office?"

Minerva kisses her husband back, "'Tough' doesn't begin to cover it."

"I'm making a casserole tonight," Hathaway announces, "Eggplant parmesan. I think you'll like it."

"Parmesan?" Minerva says, "Isn't that a little…fattening?"

"You could use some fattening," Hathaway tells his wife, "Look at you: you're as thin as a rail these days. You need better nourishment, especially now."

"Have you told Bright and Mirai yet?" Minerva asks Hathaway.

"Nuh-uh," Hathaway says with a grin, "You forget: I'm the Director of Intelligence, and the first rule of intelligence is that information is not to be shared unless absolutely necessary."

"We won't be able to keep this a secret for long anyway," Minerva says, "These things have a way of revealing themselves."

Hathaway chuckles, "True enough."

"Ronah is trying to reallocate the colony lasers for combat…or what he calls 'defense'…thanks," Minerva says, taking a glass of milk that Hathaway offers her, "…and he's trying to get more funding for his Crossbones Vanguard. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's setting up for an insurrection. Fortunately, Artasia sees it too and stopped him cold, but I don't know about those idiots in the parliament. My God, what kind of stupid…!"

"Easy," Hathaway says soothingly, putting his arms lovingly around Minerva and kissing her on the cheek again, "You have to watch your temper…it isn't good for…"

"I know," Minerva says sullenly, "It's just so frustrating sometimes."

"Artasia says you should slow down," Hathaway says, "and don't forget: she practiced medicine before she became Prime Minister. Not that you could be easily replaced or anything, but there are people who can help you lighten the load. There are a lot of capable young people coming up in the government these days."

"I know," Minerva concedes, "In a few months, I plan to have them take over completely. I've thought about it: I'm going to resign."

"Resign?" Hathaway says, surprised, "Really?"

Minerva smiles, "There are more important responsibilities than even Deputy Prime Minister of the Shambala Republic."

"True," Hathaway says with a warm grin as he kisses Minerva lovingly on the nose, "And I'm glad you think of it that way."

"But we need to bring closure to this current situation first," Minerva says, "It's critical. If we're successful, it'll ensure peace for years to come."

"All work and no play," Hathaway teases.

The couple leans closer to kiss again, a tender moment that lasts until Minerva lets out a slight yelp of pain.

"What's the matter?" Hathaway asks, concerned.

"My feet," Minerva says, "Those damn shoes are giving me blisters."

Hathaway kneels in front of his wife, helps her onto a comfortable sofa, lifts her bare foot into his lap, and massages the tender skin, "That any better?"

"Much, thank you," Minerva says with a relieved sigh. She smiles again, "Doesn't this remind you of when we first met?"

"I was thinking the same thing," Hathaway replies, "That time at my old apartment in Shanghai, where I brought you after I noticed you freezing your little tootsies off in the snow."

"It seems like only yesterday," Minerva reflects, "it's hard to believe that seven years have passed."

"Aren't you happier now than you were back then?" Hathaway probes.

"To be sure," Minerva concedes, "Because now, I can be myself…and I can be with you. But…"

"Jolie," Hathaway says, sensing the direction of his wife's thoughts.

"She's still my best friend," Minerva says, her mood turning dark, "My little sister. I thought I would be able to count on her, but now…Hathaway, I'm afraid we might need to…"

Hathaway, realizing that no good can come from Minerva's thoughts turning in such a dark direction, bucks her up, "Eggplant parmesan's almost ready. Why not get an early taste? Want a ride into the kitchen?"

"Well, if you're offering," Minerva smiles, her mood brightening, surrendering herself to the loving security of her husband's arms.

* * *

An Earth Federation Forces personnel transport shuttle is _en rout _from Luna 2 to Side 7, its only passengers being its pilot, Col. Christina McKenzie, and Cadet Christian Ray.

Christian, sitting in the copilot's seat, yawns and places his booted feet upon the control console.

"Those instruments are extremely sensitive, Cadet Ray," Col. McKenzie says, eyeing the cadet disapprovingly, "I'd sit properly if I were you…as you refused to wear a normalsuit, I'd hate for you to accidentally open the upper hatch."

Christian sullenly drops his feet back to the cockpit floor, turning away from the SNRI senior officer.

"Cadet Ray…" Christina begins.

"Will you _please _stop calling me that?" Christian says in a voice dripping with contempt, perhaps for the term, perhaps for the speaker, and perhaps for both.

"Calling you what?" Christina asks.

"That fucking name," Christian bites out, "I hate it."

Christina blinks, "What do you want me to call you?"

"Anything but 'Ray,'" Christian answers, "Call me 'Fucking Little Bastard' if you want, but don't call me 'Ray.' Call me 'Christian Irma'…at least I hate that name a little less."

Christina has read Christian's profile, and according to the report of the academy psychologist, Christian has a sense of long-standing resentment towards his father. Undoubtedly, this is the result of Christian's never having known his father…and his father having never known him. Amuro was unaware of and never told about the birth of this son…and then he died before that situation could be rectified. Christina doesn't need a psychologist's report to know that the boy suffers from abandonment issues.

Beyond that, however, Christian has been compared by his military guardians to his famous father, and undoubtedly has heard too many times how he would never…could never live up to Amuro's heroic legacy. Amuro Ray – the hero of the Earth Federation Forces…the pilot of Gundam…the greatest of the Newtypes…how could anyone live up to _that_?

"You can forget about training me to be one of your MS pilots, Colonel," Christian says, fixing an angry gaze on Christina, "Soon as we land, I'm out, and you and your entire SNRI can't stop me!"

Christina smiles, "I know about your record of near-escapes from Luna 2. If you couldn't get away from them, what makes you think you can get away from my people?"

Christian says nothing, turning away.

"I won't be training you personally," Christina says, "So maybe that'll be a small comfort to you."

Christian continues to say nothing, placing his feet back up on the console, more recklessly than before.

Christina continues, "You'll be training under the supervision of Major Jolie Minh-Miguel of the Centurion Special Operations Team."

Christian turns his head towards Christina, suddenly attentive, "Jolie…Minh?"

Christina nods, "No doubt you've heard of her."

Christian's dumbfounded silence indicates that he has.

Christina grins, "I think you'll get along well with her."

* * *

Seven hours later, Col. McKenzie leads Christian through the mobile suit maintenance bays at Garrison Noah at Side 7. The facility, as ever, hums with activity as mobile suits are combat-prepped for deployment.

Christian watches in admiration as a Special Forces pilot skillfully positions his Jet Jegan-II on a launch catapult and launch crews direct the mecha's deployment into space. All around, a number of other mobile suits are also readied for deployment.

"Over there," Col. McKenzie indicates, pointing towards a mecha that Christian recognizes as a Gundam unit.

"That's…" Christian begins, jaw dropping in awe.

"The White Phoenix Gundam," Col. McKenzie finishes, "Major Minh-Miguel's personal mobile suit."

"Awesome," Christian exhales, fingering the gleaming armor of the powerful war machine, his slender fingers lingering over the black, stenciled letters on the side of the cockpit hatch, "MAJ. J. MINH-MIGUEL."

Christian senses a presence…completely new, and yet somehow familiar to him, and turns his head. Approaching is a slender, feminine figure clad in a silver and black normalsuit, the pilot's face hidden behind a sealed, visored helmet.

The pilot removes her helmet, shaking out her long, fine, ebony-black hair.

Christian looks into eyes that are as black as they are intense, the most distinct feature on a delicately-featured face as smooth as silk. His heart begins to race.

_She's…beautiful._

"Major Minh-Miguel," Col. McKenzie says, returning Jolie's quick salute, "This is Cadet Christian Ray. You'll be training him from this point forward and he will be under your direct command."

Christian stares at Jolie's ethereal beauty, his face a delirious grin.

Jolie throws a withering glare in Christian's direction that seems to reduce him to the level of the smallest, most insignificant insect.

Christian finds himself intimidated by Jolie's unnerving gaze…he looks into her dark eyes…the eyes of a killer.

"Grab some rags, a mop, and a bucket," Jolie finally says to Christian, "You have two hours to clean my mobile suit. If I find a single unclean spot on it in two hours, it's two days in the guardhouse for you, Cadet."

"Yes, ma'am!" Christian salutes, all but tripping over himself to locate and acquire the necessary cleaning implements.

"ON THE DOUBLE, CADET RAY!" Jolie raises her voice.

"Right way, ma'am!" Christian replies.

"Oooh, harsh," Col. McKenzie smiles.

"Have to be with these young punks," Jolie replies coldly.

"You like him, don't you?" the colonel says, amusement in her voice.

Jolie gives the colonel the briefest hint of a smile, but says nothing.


	4. EPISODE 3: LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD

**EPISODE 3: LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD**

_Date: January 11, U.C. 0106_

_Time: 23:18_

_Location: Buch Concern Orbital Industrial Warehouse O-71, L5 orbit…_

A voice cries out in pain and horror, "Fire! Fire!"

A flash of light heralds an explosion that results in screams, then silence.

A second explosion sends literally tons of shrapnel shooting in multiple directions, many of the incidental projectiles finding their way to and through tender flesh.

A massive shadow moves ominously, visible only in the glint of light emanating from fires that die in an instant without oxygen to fuel them.

A massive armored footfall crushes a vehicle and its occupants, and then jets away.

A Minovsky-energy based ranged weapon is directed, set, aimed, and fired, immolating tens of billions of credits worth of mobile weapons platform prototypes, armaments caches, and supply warehouses.

A platoon of men, their hearts pumping in fear, bring their handheld weapons to bear futilely against the black armor of the monster that confronts them, their expressions betraying their despair as vulcan rounds rain down upon them, pulverizing them into piles of smoking, bloody flesh.

Seemingly bored by the paltry resistance, the armored monster turns it attention to more weapons caches and large industrial apparatuses that dwarf even its massive bulk, firing upon them with its primary weapon, reducing them to slag.

The ebony mobile suit swivels its head in the direction of a more substantial challenge – an approaching squadron of Buch Concern prototype mobile suits…XM-00 Den'an Sero types…ostensibly developed for use by the Shambala Republic Defense Guard, but thus far seen only in a limited production run for the elite pilots of Meitzer Ronah's private army, the Crossbones Vanguard. The twelve mobile suits represent the very cutting edge of combat mecha technology – an entirely new generation of mobile suits far removed from and far superior to the Earth Federation and Archduchy of Zeon-based models that dominated the first quarter century of mobile suit warfare…an impression reinforced by the sinister, binocular-like bicameral monitor units mounted on the masks of the Seros. The Age of the Zaku and the GM, it would appear, is over…

The OMEGA GUNDAM, the latest scion of the Federation's most venerable combat mecha platform, begs to differ.

Within the lead XM-00S Officer's Den'an Sero, veteran Crossbones Vanguard pilot Carrozzo Matthioli flashes a manic grin, "Gundam, eh? The Federation still has a penchant for creating monsters."

And what a monster the Omega Gundam is, staring down the twelve Den'an Seros menacingly, its green eyes flashing dangerously upon its black mask, ready to take on all of its challengers.

"Gentlemen," Carrozzo says to his subordinates, "You are looking at the finest sample of the Earth Federation Forces' cutting-edge military technology. Beauty, isn't it? Let's gift-wrap it."

The Omega Gundam aims its beam rifle, prepared to strike.

Before it can, it is ensnared in the grip of a dozen alloy cables, which snake around the mighty Federation mobile suit's limbs and torso, magnetizing themselves into unbreakable grips.

"Power up," Carrozzo orders.

His subordinates comply, sending a collective several hundred thousands of amperes of electrical energy surging from the Den'an Seros, sending the Omega Gundam into a paroxysm of mechanical agony.

A few small explosions rip from various points on the Omega Gundam's armored form…overloaded power transformers and circuitry relay units.

The Omega Gundam's green eyes flicker and go dark…and the mobile suit's mighty limbs go slack. Its beam rifle, however, remains magnetized to its armored gauntlet.

"Prepare the unit for transport," Carrozzo instructs his charges.

Two of the Den'an Seros move in with towing mechanisms deployed.

Their magnetic clamp heads have just made contact when the Omega Gundam's eyes flash back to life and with them, the massive power of its nuclear fusion engine.

With a speed seemingly impossible for an armored form of its bulk, the Omega Gundam grabs the offending cables and draws its enemies closer with a powerful pull of its armored hands. The Den'an Seros, its pilots still reeling from the shock of the sudden, violent motion, begin to draw out their beam rifles.

The Omega Gundam is faster, extracting its beam saber and cleaving both restrictive cables and then plunging the saber into the cockpit of one of the two Den'an Seros while kicking aside the other.

"Open fire," Carrozzo orders.

The Den'an Seros comply, bringing their beam rifles to bear on the Omega Gundam and letting rip.

Its power reduced by the electrical cable attack, the Omega Gundam is unable to dodge the incoming barrage with a blast of its rocket pack. It does not need to…its armor absorbs the incoming fusillade.

The eyes of the Omega Gundam flash a terrible, intense green as it launches itself towards Carrozzo's Officer's Den'an Sero.

"You won't," Carrozzo snarls as he raises the shield of his Sero.

The Officer's Den'an Sero and the Omega Gundam are shield-locked…each mobile suit engages thrusters, increasing power slowly.

For a brief moment, there is stalemate and then, the tide turns decidedly against the Den'an Sero.

_Uncanny!_ Carrozzo thinks to himself, as his mouth begins to run dry, _Our attack had to have at least halved its power, and it's still overpowering the Sero!_

"Reed! Armus!" Carrozzo calls to his subordinates, "Dust this monster!"

Reed and Armus swing the beam cannon of their Den'an Seros towards the back of the Omega Gundam and open fire.

The Omega Gundam twists around just in time to block their incoming shots with its arm-mounted energy shield, which takes form at precisely the last possible second.

Aside the shield is the muzzle of the Omega Gundam's own hyper beam rifle, which unleashes a devastating stream of Minovsky energy to annihilate both Reed's and Armus' Den'an Seros in a single shot.

"Take up defensive positions," Carrozzo alerts his men, "Watch yourselves, men."

The Omega Gundam faces its enemies…defiantly, impassively, seemingly capable of immolating them all in an instant, even with only a fraction of its power.

To the surprise of Crossbones Vanguard pilots, however, the Federation's hijacked terror weapon transforms from mobile suit to mobile armor configuration and vectors away at speeds that Carrozzo Matthioli knows that his Seros, swift as they are, cannot match.

Carrozzo cannot help but chuckle at his failure, despite the fact that he has lost three men and, more importantly to him, three mobile suits…a loss that will certainly cost him some points with his superior, Meitzer Ronah.

"Omega Gundam," Carrozzo sighs, "You're every bit as good as expected…and then some. Worth another effort to get…another day.'

* * *

On a Sunday afternoon, even the Earth Federation Forces' final stronghold in the Earth Sphere, Garrison Noah, is quiet.

"Quiet," naturally, is a relative term, for even on a quiet Sunday during peacetime, dozens of engineers and mechanics are employed as they are, daily, around the clock, servicing mobile suits that might need to be deployed for emergency combat at an instant's notice.

Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray, newly inducted into SNRI's Centurion Special Operations Team, snoozes comfortably in the cockpit of the White Phoenix Gundam, a light breeze drifting through the open cockpit hatch. Resting casually between Christian's lips is a lit cigarette burned almost to its butt.

_Christian dreams…seeing himself on a beautiful tropical beach the likes of which can no longer be found on the Earth. Approaching him is a familiar, gorgeous young woman…Jolie Minh, the prettiest girl Christian has ever seen._

_She is clad in a short denim summer micro skirt, which she drops to a white micro bikini, her long, luscious legs covered with beads of her perspiration in the tropical heat._

_She approaches him, wrapping her slender arms around his form, her lips approaching his…_

**WHACK!**

"OW! Goddamn it…what the fu…?!" Christian mutters, rubbing his left cheek.

**WHACK!**

The impact hits his right cheek this time, nearly snapping his head off…or at least, so it feels.

"Hey!" Christian bites out, his teeth clenched in rage, "What the fuck is your problem?!"

The girl of his dreams crouches in front of him at the threshold of the cockpit hatch, clad in her Earth Federation Forces uniform, officer's hat on her head and stylish black overcoat draped over her shoulders. She looks furious.

"What's my problem?" Jolie demands angrily, "I want to know what the fuck YOUR problem is! Were you born retarded?! Did your mom drop you on your head when you were a baby?! How the HELL could you be stupid enough to SMOKE inside a mobile suit cockpit?! BUY a clue, moron!"

"I…!" Christian begins, but doesn't get to finish as Jolie growls, drags him out of the cockpit seat and across the threshold of the cockpit hatch with one hand, and drops him on the deck of the boarding gantry.

Before Christian can even rise, Jolie slaps him again in rapid succession with both the palm and back of her right hand.

Enraged now, Christian staggers to his feet and lunges at Jolie, "BITCH! I'm gonna…whoa!"

Jolie sweeps her foot and sends Christian sprawling again. He picks up a mop as he goes down, turns its end towards Jolie, and thrusts it at her viciously.

Jolie catches the mop handle with casual ease and kicks Christian in the teeth. While he is still reeling, she delivers an uppercut to his jaw, knocking Christian flat on his back.

Jolie picks up a nearby bucket of grease and machine fluid and proceeds to splatter it all over the inside of the cockpit of the White Phoenix Gundam. She then throws the metal bucket to the gantry floor, where it echoes loudly through the maintenance dock.

Dazed and stunned, Christian hears Jolie say menacingly, "I want you to clean out the cockpit of my mobile suit now. You have two hours. If I return then and that cockpit isn't perfectly clean, you'll suffer a beating that makes what you just felt feel like a massage by comparison."

Jolie turns to leave. Behind her, Christian quietly picks up the mop again, and runs towards her, mop raised above his head.

"I wouldn't do that, kid," a new voice calls out, "Unless you want that mop handle shoved up your ass and out your mouth."

"Who the hell are you?" Christian demands, lowering the mop.

A handsome Earth Federation Forces officer in his late twenties offers a friendly smile and extends his hand to Christian, "Major Eric Gardner, SNRI Intelligence Department, at your service. You're Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray?"

"Yeah," Christian says, shaking Gardner's hand, "How did you…?"

"Like I said, I work in intelligence," Gardner replies, "and if you had any, you'd understand that Jolie isn't doing this just to torture you, although it might seem that way."

"She's a sadistic, insane bitch," Christian mutters, "I hate her."

Eric says, "She doesn't hate you. She does what she does because she cares: if she didn't, she wouldn't bother."

Christian says nothing, but gives Eric an incredulous look.

Eric pats Christian on the shoulder and grins at the younger man, "You'll get it sooner or later. In meantime, though, you'd better clean up that cockpit before that fluid does any permanent damage, or Jolie just _might _kill you. She does love that MS, you know."

Gardner leaves. Christian picks up the mop, some rags, and a bucket and goes to work.

* * *

Two hours later, a greasy, sweaty Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray puts the final polish on the cockpit of the White Phoenix Gundam. Christian has performed a meticulous job: every centimeter of the WPG's cockpit gleams.

Major Jolie Minh-Miguel approaches precisely two hours after she left, as she had threatened.

Christian sets aside his cleaning tools and salutes smartly, "Major Minh-Miguel, ma'am!"

Ignoring him, Jolie inspects the inside of the White Phoenix Gundam, carefully checking for any unclean spots or missed smudges, and finds none.

Jolie exits the cockpit and turns to Christian. Her expression is cold.

Jolie picks up another bucket filled with grease, oil, and other refuse, and splatters its contents into the cockpit of the WPG.

Jolie smiles and hands the bucket to Christian, saying quietly, "You have two hours."

Straining with every erg of willpower he has, Christian resists the urge to tear Jolie's head off. Instead, he salutes and shouts loudly, "YES, MA'AM!"

Jolie leaves. Christian closes his eyes, sighs, and prepares to start over.

* * *

_I think I'm gonna die here_…an exhausted Christian Ray thinks to himself, exhausted and spreadeagled on service gantry…_and I'm too fucking tired to care._

Christian hears light footsteps approaching. He spots Jolie, a bucket in her hand.

Christian rises, shaking with terror. He offers as crisp a salute as he can manage and steadies his voice with supreme effort, "Major Minh-Miguel, ma'am!"

Once again, Jolie inspects the WPG cockpit. Once again, she finds it spotlessly clean.

Jolie lifts the bucket towards Christian's face.

A scent crosses Christian's nose…not the scent of machine fluids or grease, but of a warm Danish pastry and a fresh pot of hot coffee.

Jolie offers Christian a warm smile and her hand, "Congratulations, Chief Ray: you've passed the first test. You're ready to begin learning."

Christian accepts the Danish from Jolie, but before he can begin digging into it, Jolie produces another bucket of grease and machine fluids and dumps the contents on Christian's head!

The fluid stings his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, but through the grimy sensation, Christian hears a sound that no one has heard in more than five years.

Jolie laughs…laughs harder and more joyfully than she has in a long, long time.

Christian begins to laugh too, picturing the mess he must look like at this point.

Jolie is doubled over laughing, and soon, both she and Christian have collapsed on the gantry, their shared laughter echoing through the maintenance deck through the noise of heavy machinery and hydraulic mechanisms in operation.

* * *

A little over an hour later, Christian steps out of the shower in Jolie's luxury condo in Green Oasis City. He dresses in a fresh uniform (his previous one a total loss) and joins Jolie in the informal dining area near the kitchen, where a sumptuous lunch (prepared by Jolie's maid, Cynthia) awaits him.

Jolie seems content with a tobacco lunch today, working her way through her third cigarette of the hour as Christian takes a seat.

"How do you like living at the barracks?" Jolie asks Christian, "Is the food there as bad as I remember it?"

"Probably," Christian orders, tasting the delicious meal Cynthia has whipped up, "Definitely not as good as this: I've survived worse, though, at Luna 2 and at the orphanage in San Francisco down on Earth before the Federation made me its ward."

Jolie grins, remembering her own days as a war orphan on the streets of Side 1's Industria Colony, and then says, "Would you like to live here with me?"

Christian stops chewing and stares at Jolie in disbelief for a moment, "Are you serious? You're asking me to live here…with you?"

"Do you want to?" Jolie asks.

Christian, his heart racing, replies, "Well, yeah…but…"

Jolie says, "I'll clear it with Col. McKenzie and your quartermaster."

"Yes, ma'am!" Christian says enthusiastically.

Jolie smiles, "If we're going to work together in combat, the most important thing is that we trust each other. Right now, you and I hardly know each other. We'll need to learn to establish this trust."

Christian nods…ecstatic at the idea of living and training with Jolie, but somewhat apprehensive about what "establishing trust" will entail.

* * *

That evening, Jolie takes Christian with her to the White Phoenix Nightclub. Legally, Christian is six months shy of legally visiting and drinking at the club, but Jolie was an entire two years too young for the club when she began frequenting it when it was named the Andromeda and was under different ownership.

Christian takes in the glittering neon atmosphere of the club, "This is your place?"

Jolie replies, "Bought it at a good price two years ago. Owners were in trouble with gambling debts, I think."

Philip, greets Jolie and Christian, whom Jolie introduces to the m'aitre 'd, who leads the pair to Jolie's favorite corner table, where Major Eric Gardner and Captain Chieming Noah are already waiting.

Christian recognizes the major immediately, offering a grin and a handshake, "Hey, Major Gardner!"

"Hey, kid," Eric grins, taking the younger man's hand, "Good to see you survived Jolie's initiation ritual."

"Christian," Jolie says, "This is Captain Chieming Noah, second-in-command of the Centurion Team."

Chieming shakes Christian's hand, "So you're Christian Ray. Your parents and mine are good friends.'

Christian smiles, but seems annoyed at the mention of his parents. Everyone takes to their seats somewhat uncomfortably.

Philip brings a bottle of Chablis and Jolie pours for everyone. She offers Christian a cigarette and places a second ciggie between her lips. Christian lights Jolie's cigarette and then his own.

"Any new intel on the OG?" Jolie asks Eric.

"It was sighted attacking an orbital Buch Concern weapons R&D site in L5 about forty-eight hours ago," Eric says, "Skirmished with some Crossbones Vanguard MS, and then hightailed it out of there again."

"Whoever has it has it in for both the Shambala Republic and the Federation," Jolie observes, "We've been hit, and so have they."

Chieming chimes in, "Hathaway sent some data to Eric and Col. McKenzie just two hours ago. SIA is willing to pool resources with SNRI to locate the OG…but they don't have any more solid leads than we do at present."

Christian is more than a bit lost in all this apparently secretive subject matter, and sips his glass of Chablis quietly.

"How hard could it possibly to find that damn thing?" Jolie mutters, butting out her cigarette.

"Hard," Eric says, "The Omega Gundam has the most advanced Minovsky-based stealth system ever fitted into a mobile weapons platform. The thing can become invisible even to Newtypes. If not, you'd probably have found it for us already."

"And as long as it's out at large," Jolie says, "I stay off the active duty roster."

"Well," Chieming remarks, "At least you aren't the prime suspect in its theft anymore: its recent attacks all occurred while you've been here at Garrison Noah. Your alibi is bulletproof."

"That's great," Jolie says, "but it's not important at this point. That thing is a menace: I know what it can do. So far, it's limited its attacks to military objectives. My thinking is that whoever has it isn't likely to use it against civilians, but…"

Jolie stops in mid-sentence as she spots Col. Christina McKenzie, Director of SNRI, entering the club and approaching the table.

The SNRI officers rise to salute their commanding officer, and Christina bids them all to take a seat.

Christina tells, "I've authorized your request for Chief Warrant Officer Ray here to live with you at the condo. I faced more than just a few raised eyebrows for that one."

Jolie grins, "Thanks. We were just talking about our current 'Big Problem.'"

Christina nods, "So I figured: that's the other thing I came to talk to you about. I've got some good news for you, but don't be too ecstatic about it: we might all regret it yet. The High Command has put you back on active duty, Jolie, and they want you to take the point on finding and recovering the OG."

"_Knew _they'd come groveling to me," Jolie says, shaking her head, "I'm gonna need my need partner here to back me up," she adds, indicating Christian.

Christian looks at Jolie eagerly, his pulse racing at Jolie's referring to him as her "partner."

Col. McKenzie says, "Whatever resources you need: bottom line is we want the OG back, or we want it destroyed. That's your mission objective."

The club's resident band strikes up an old rock tune from the 1980s of the old pre-Universal Century calendar – "Love Is a Battlefield."

Jolie turns to Christian, "Hey…I'm getting bored now. Dance?"

Christian grins, "You got it."

Jolie and Christian take to the crowded dance floor…the pair move to the song's groove with sassy flair, like liquid flames.

Chieming looks incredulously at the sight, blinking in disbelief, "Now there's something I never thought I'd see again…"

"What?" her fiancé Major Gardner asks.

"Jolie dancing like that," Chieming replies, "I haven't seen her dance since…"

Gardner knows what Chieming leaves unsaid…_since before Jonah died_…, and remarks, "She still dances really well. I'm breaking a good sweat here just _watching _her move…those mile-long legs…that tiny, but shapely little tush…

Chieming elbows Gardner in the sternum, hard, and continues watching Jolie and Christian, their moves graceful and yes, extremely sexy…charged with passion.

The vocalist's voice delivers the lyrics of the song with equal passion, conveying the mood of the moment:

_We are young_  
_heartache to heartache we stand  
No promises no demands  
Love is a battlefield._

_We are strong  
no-one can tell us we're wrong  
Searching our hearts for so long  
Both of us knowing  
Love is a battlefield._

_You're begging me to go  
then making me stay -  
Why do you hurt me so bad?  
It would help me to know  
do I stand in your way  
Or am I the best thing you've had?  
Believe me  
believe me  
I can't tell you why_

_But I'm trapped by your love  
and I'm chained to your side.  
We are young  
heartache to heartache we stand  
no promises, no demads  
love is a battlefeild_

_When I'm losing control  
will you turn me away or touch me deep inside'  
And when all this gets old  
will it still feel the same?  
There's no way this will die_

_But if we get much closer  
I could lose control_

_And if your heart surrenders you'll need me to hold.  
We are young  
heartache to heartache we stand  
..._

As the song ends, Jolie and Christian are left perspiring…staring at each other and smiling with an almost feral heat.

The band switches to a slow, romantic number, and Christian approaches Jolie.

Jolie walks past him and returns to the table.

Straining to conceal his frustration, Christian follows.

_Establishing trust_…Christian cannot help thinking…_But you don't trust me yet, do you?_

Jolie pours another round of Chablis for her companions and says through shallow pants to Christian, "First training session begins tomorrow morning at 04:00, Chief Ray."

* * *

At 03:15, Major Jolie Minh-Miguel and Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray are at the mobile suit deck of Garrison Noah, standing on the service gantry at the open cockpit hatch of the RX-780 Centurion Gundam. Both normalsuited, Jolie runs through a pre-sortie checklist with Christian.

"This was my first mobile suit when I first joined the Federal Forces," Jolie explains to Christian as she runs through a diagnostic review of the mobile suit's combat systems, "It was mothballed after I was assigned the White Phoenix Gundam, and it hasn't seen any action since."

"So I'm wearing your hand-me-downs?" Christian wisecracks.

Jolie returns with a grin, "Nonsense. You'd look silly in a miniskirt, Chief."

Jolie boards her White Phoenix Gundam, pulls on her helmet, seals the visor, and brings the WPG's combat systems online. Weeks have passed since her last sortie, and she's itching to get back into action…even if it is just a training exercise rather than real combat.

_Once a combat pilot, always a combat pilot_, Jolie sighs resignedly, _It's just in my blood, I guess: some of us just weren't meant to live as civilians._

Satisfied that the WPG is in top operating order, Jolie opens her communications channel to Christian's Centurion Gundam, "Centurion Leader to Centurion Three: stand by for deployment."

"Roger, Centurion Leader," comes Christian's reply.

WPG and CG sortie from Garrison Noah together…for the first time in five years.

Two hours later, Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray finds himself on his heels as he struggles to anticipate and dodge the White Phoenix Gundam's shots. Fortunately, the CG and the WPG are not armed with live ammunition for this training exercise or Christian and his MS would have been immolated at least a half dozen times already.

"Pick it up! Pick it up!" Jolie exhorts through the tactical net, "You need to anticipate where the shots are coming from and react faster, or you'll get your ass blown off!"

To underscore her point, Jolie launches a simulated beam rifle shot that registers as a hit on the CG's "crotch," between the armored mechanoid's legs.

"Just castrated you there, boyo," Jolie remarks.

"Yeah, well," Christian retorts, "I've got more down there than you counted on."

Christian hears a short laugh through the tactical net.

To back up his point, Christian launches a multiple fronts attack with the CG's beam rifle, Vulcan cannon, and missile pack.

The WPG dodges the incoming fire with adroit ease.

"You were saying?" Jolie's arch voice comes through the tactical net.

Christian says nothing, instead pulling off a surprise maneuver by barreling the CG directly at the WPG.

Jolie tips the WPG backwards almost playfully, magnetizing the two MS together in a metallic embrace.

"All right," Jolie says, "We've done enough work on individual assault maneuvers for now. Next, I want us to practice the docking exercise we discussed yesterday."

Christian acknowledges, "Roger, ma'am."

The WPG and CG separate.

"Systems switching to docking for PSI-Gundam," Jolie announces, "Synchronizing energy output levels. Docking mechanisms engaged. WPG now maneuvering into docking position."

"Roger," Christian replies, "Centurion Gundam docking interface systems engaged."

CG and WPG synchronize their movements and interlock into a single unit, becoming the PSI-Gundam…seen for the first time since the penultimate battle of the Phobos War.

_That went just as smoothly as when Jonah and I last did it_, Jolie reflects, with some wonder.

It was always trust that had enabled Jolie and her beloved, slain husband, Jonah Miguel, to function so effectively as a combat team. Even when conflict had come between them, there was an underlying faith in one another that they could always rely on…and made them invincible in battle.

But Jonah is gone…inadvertently slain by Jolie's own hand in a nightmare she relives every night.

Trust is about to be tested anew.

Jolie shifts the thruster throttle into the "Maximum" position and directs the PSI-Gundam towards Side 7's Green Noah Colony.

"Major Minh, what are you doing?" Christian asks nervously.

Jolie does not reply, holding the thrust down at Maximum and the heading of the PSI-Gundam on a collision course with the space colony, which houses Garrison Noah and Green Oasis City…a population of over 1.5 million people.

"Major!" Christian croaks out through a dry throat.

The mass of Green Noah Colony looms larger by the second…the vehicles on its busy streets visible through its massive, transparent solar panel.

"Jolie, we need to pull out, now! We're going to crash right into them!" Christian shouts.

No reaction from the WPG.

Christian's eyes dart desperately around the cockpit of the Centurion Gundam; he finally locates a red-lit button marked, "EMERGENCY DISENGAGE"

Christian hits the button.

The PSI-Gundam's interlocks disengage, and the combination MS separates into its component Centurion Gundam and White Phoenix Gundam. The emergency disengagement kills forward thrust and sets the CG and WPG vectoring in opposite directions, but no longer towards Green Noah Colony.

"Got to regain control…" Christian mutters as his Centurion Gundam spins helplessly.

A moment later, his momentum is brought to a lurching stop that would have sent Christian crashing into the CG's control console had he not been wearing the safety restraint harness.

Christian thinks he has crashed into space debris, but looks into the external monitor to see that the White Phoenix Gundam has stopped his momentum by grabbing onto the Centurion Gundam's hand.

"We need to talk," Jolie says darkly, "After we get back to Garrison Noah."

* * *

An hour later, Jolie is chewing Christian out loudly on the mobile suit maintenance deck. Her ranting voice can be heard over the sound of heavy machinery at work.

"I had the situation completely under control!" Jolie rails, "I gave you no order to activate the emergency disengage function!"

'We were gonna crash into the colony!" Christian retorts, "If I didn't disengage, we would have plowed right into them!"

Jolie smacks Christian on the right cheek with a hard slap, "You don't act without my orders, do you understand, Chief Ray?! That exercise was conducted to determine whether or not we had enough trust in each other to function effectively as a combat unit! We have the answer to that question now!"

Christian bites his lip contritely, and considers his words before saying, "You're right, ma'am. I'm sorry. I should have trusted you."

Jolie's expression softens, and she reaches her gloved hand to tenderly touch the spot on Christian's cheek where she slapped him a moment earlier…the angry red mark having not yet faded.

"We have a lot of work to do," Jolie says softly, "but not right now. Go get showered and report for duty."

"Yes, ma'am," Christian says.

They hear footsteps and see Chief Warrant Officer Amy Chu, one of Jolie's aides, approaching.

Amy salutes the leader of the Centurion Team, "Major Minh-Miguel, ma'am: Col. McKenzie requests your and Chief Warrant Officer Ray's presence at Reville Hall immediately."

* * *

"Our intelligence sweeps of Earth orbit detected some unusual activity beginning around seven hours ago," Col. Christina McKenzie says to Jolie and Christian, a holographic display of the Earth projected before them, "Something is poking around the area near one of the Earth Ecology Reclamation Energy Projectors. Minovsky particle field, however, makes it difficult to tell precisely what it is."

"Omega Gundam?" Jolie suggests.

"Quite possibly," Col. McKenzie replies, "Though what its current operators would gain by sabotaging an EER ray projector isn't clear. Whoever has the Omega Gundam isn't using it to make ideological statements. Its attacks have all been rooted in very pragmatic targets: weapons depots, research and development facilities, personnel training compounds, and the like. Attacking a repurposed colony laser wouldn't seem to have much strategic value. Still, if this is the Omega Gundam, I need you out there."

"We'll leave immediately then," Jolie says as she and Christian rise from their seats.

"A transport shuttle will be waiting for you in forty-five minutes at the spacedock," Col. McKenzie says, "The WPG and CG have been combat-prepped and should be being loaded aboard the shuttle right now. You'll need to be discreet: we don't want to tip our hand to whoever is out there."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Jolie and Christian are _en rout _to the spacedock.

Christian brings up an unpleasant, but pressing topic, "Ma'am: I appreciate the confidence you're showing in me, but I'm still in training. I have no real combat experience."

"Are you saying you're afraid of being in a real battle?" Jolie asks.

"No, ma'am," Christian replies, "But I don't want to screw up and…"

"Chief Ray," Jolie says, serious combat demeanor in place now, "there is no better training than actual combat. You either prove yourself, or we both die. It's that simple."

Christian gulps and settles into his seat aboard the jeep driven by Chief Warrant Officer Amy Chu.

* * *

EEREP # 2 was, in an earlier incarnation, the Colony Laser Polyphemus – designed and built by the Zeonic Corporation under the orders of Archduke Alexander Miguel for use against the Earth Federation Forces and their Shambala Republic allies. With the Archduke's defeat and the fall of the Zeon war machine, engineering crews for the Federation and the Shambala Republic have restored a number of the derelict colony lasers and put them to use in reversing the nuclear winter effects caused by the Phobos Zeons' mass colony drop operations of U.C. 0100. The plan, conceived by Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi of the Shambala Republic, is to use the focused solar thermal energy of the colony laser not to wage war, but to reverse its effects. Positioned in orbit over the planet, each EEREP fires periodic beams of concentrated, amplified solar energy into Earth's atmosphere…burning away the billions of tons of debris that the Zeon's colony drop attack sent into the atmosphere, choking away the planet's access to life-giving sunlight and rendering the planet a desolate, lifeless husk.

Five years after the catastrophe, the Earth's natural recuperative powers and humanity's efforts have started the process of rebirth. Even so, scientists estimate that a century will pass before the Earth will begin resembling the lush, green world it was centuries ago.

This assumes no disruptions, such as a handful of armored figures are now perpetrating at EEREP # 2, still colloquially called Polyphemus, currently in terrestrial orbit high above the Mediterranean Sea.

* * *

Carrozzo Matthioli of the Crossbones Vanguard leads his squad of Den'an Sero mobile suits as they inspect the external surface of the Polyphemus. Twelve massive towing ships, each twice the size of the largest space warship, have attached magnetic cables to the hull of the even more titanic colony laser.

"All right," Carrozzo beams with satisfaction, seeing the towing cables secure and the towing ships at the ready, "Unlike our last prospect, this one doesn't fight back, and it's too big and slow to run away from us. Let's bring this home."

_It's an insane plan_, Carrozzo reflects, _Do they expect that the Federation's leaders and Daikun and Zabi will just overlook this? They will not be mollified by explanations that this is a maintenance issue. This…eh?_

"This is Lestang One," Carrozzo signals his men, "Go to combat alert status."

Without question or hesitation, the Den'an Seros assume battle formation.

A powerful beam blast, red in color, immolates a Den'an Sero and narrowly misses Carrozzo's own Officer's Den'an Sero.

_Damn it! _Carrozzo thinks as his teeth clench in rage, _Third unit lost in as many days! And I know what did this!_

The Omega Gundam's green eyes flash in the distance to confirm Carrozzo's suspicions.

"Fire at will!" Carrozzo orders his men, "Hold back nothing: your objective is not to disable, but destroy!"

The Den'an Seros concentrate their beam fire on the approaching Omega Gundam, which wards off the beam storm with its energy shield.

* * *

The White Phoenix Gundam and the Centurion Gundam, piloted by Major Jolie Minh-Miguel and Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray, respectively, rapidly approach the scene of the skirmish.

"I've tried contacting them through all communications frequencies, ma'am," Christian says, "No response."

"You've got signatures?" Jolie asks.

"Scanning now," Christian replies, "Fifteen units…fourteen are a design not in our databanks. The fifteenth…Gundam type."

"Gundam," Jolie exhales, "Looks like Col. McKenzie was right. We've found our lost lamb."

"Some lamb," Christian notes, "It's slaughtering that pack of wolves."

"And we can't separate the friendlies from the unfriendlies," Jolie rejoins, "Weapons systems to combat mode."

"Roger," Christian complies, "But which side are we attacking?"

"ALL of them if they shoot at us," Jolie answers.

* * *

The Omega Gundam reaches out with its massive armored claw, grabbing Carrozzo Matthioli's Officer's Den'an Sero by the throat, squeezing with its tremendous might, crushing critical relay circuits between the external camera unit and the control cockpit.

If Carrozzo fears impending demise, however, he does not allow it to show, deftly directing his mobile suit to extract its beam saber from its backpack nacelle, igniting its greenish beam, which digs into the black armor of the Omega Gundam's left arm.

"You are quite the monster," Carrozzo mutters, "But this close in, you can't use your most powerful weapons systems against me."

Distant beam blasts strike the rear of the Omega Gundam, but Carrozzo notes that the blasts are not originating from any of his subordinates' MS.

The combat computer of the Officer's Den'an Sero indicates the arrival of two more mobile suits upon the scene: like the Omega Gundam, Earth Federation Forces signatures…Gundam types.

The Officer's Den'an Sero kicks itself free of the Omega Gundam's weakening grip, firing its beam rifle to drive the ebony mobile suit farther back.

Regrouping with his subordinates, Carrozzo issues new orders, "Withdraw! All combat units and tow ships!"

The towing ships disengage their towing cables as the Den'an Seros magnetize themselves to the ships' hulls; they hit maximum thrust and depart the scene.

* * *

"Who the hell are they?!" Christian wonders aloud.

"Crossbones Vanguard," Jolie answers, "We'll deal with them later. Omega Gundam first. Two-front attack."

"Roger," Christian replies.

Jolie points the WPG's beam rifle towards the Omega Gundam, but before she can get off a shot, the OG, faster than it appears it can be, slashes its beam saber towards the WPG, forcing Jolie to retreat.

Undeterred, Jolie launches the WPG in a frontal attack against the OG, unknowingly mirroring Carrozzo Matthioli's earlier strategy, drawing in close to the OG to engage it in close-in combat.

Jolie gets the WPG behind the Omega Gundam, using her greater agility to get the black Gundam in a sort of half-nelson.

Jolie says into the monitor, "Chief Ray…you've got a clear shot! Take it!"

Christian takes aim with the Centurion Gundam's beam rifle at the Omega Gundam's cockpit. Restrained by the WPG, the OG cannot bring its energy shield into play.

Christian's gloved finger tightens around the trigger, and then…he hesitates.

_The pressure coming from inside the cockpit of the Omega Gundam_…Christian notes…_It's…Jolie?! But that's impossible! _

With its titanic strength, the Omega Gundam breaks free of the White Phoenix Gundam's grip, directs its beam rifle towards the Centurion Gundam, and opens fire!

Christian succeeds in turning the Centurion Gundam just enough to avoid a lethal direct hit, but the CG nevertheless takes a shot to a critical stabilizer thruster, sending his MS careening out of control…and falling towards the Earth!

"Christian!" Jolie cries out in panic. She darts the WPG past the OG towards her drifting comrade.

The OG gets a bead on the back of the WPG with its mega beam rifle.

Before the black Gundam can get the shot off, the WPG twists around unexpected and fires its own beam rifle, blasting the OG's primary weapon out of its hand.

Jolie turns her attention back towards the Centurion Gundam, which has begun to glow ominously as it falls farther into Earth's atmosphere.

"Damn it!" Jolie bites out through clenched teeth.

Jolie switches the WPG into Wavediver mode, hits maximum thrust on the throttle, and dives towards the falling Centurion Gundam, keeping one eye on the Omega Gundam above and behind her.

The Omega Gundam watches its two brethren fall towards the Earth…its green eyes evincing almost a curiosity. If it fires its weapons now, it could eliminate them both.

But the OG merely watches…dispassionately, perhaps even inquisitively…its pilot wondering, perhaps, why she is reluctant to fire.

* * *

Inside the cockpit of the Centurion Gundam, Christian tries to maintain a sense of calm as he attempts every possible maneuver to regain flight control. He can feel the pull of the Earth's gravity growing stronger by the second, and the temperature in the MS cockpit has already risen to uncomfortable levels.

Jolie's voice comes through the tactical net, "Christian! You've got to get yourself stabilized or you'll burn up on reentry!"

"Stabilizer controls negative, Major," Christian reports, "That blast took out all thruster controls!"

"Hang in there!" Jolie calls out, "I'm almost there! Stand by to engage docking mode!"

"Docking?!" Christian echoes incredulously, "Are you fucking kidding me?! Docking, here?! Now!"

"Shut up and do it!" Jolie snarls.

Christian complies, "Docking sequence initiated. Interlocks engaged."

"PSI-Gundam systems engaged," Jolie responds, "Now positioning for docking."

The PWG, diving at maximum speed, overtakes the falling Centurion Gundam. The two Gundams fall together towards the Earth…spinning out of control…in a bizarre parallel to Jolie and Christian's dance at the White Phoenix Nightclub.

_Love is a Battlefield…_

After several long, agonizing moments, the two MS make contact…rocked by several heat-friction induced explosions that nearly throw them apart. Ultimately, however, the interlocks and servos bind.

_Heartache to heartache, we stand…_

"PSI-Gundam Docking Complete," the combat computer indicates.

Jolie hits maximum thrust. Slowly, fitfully, the PSI-Gundam's momentum slows, and reverses…breaking free of Earth gravity, struggling, straining to climb back towards space.

Flames bite the edges of the mecha, bathing the two young Federation MS pilots in their own perspiration.

The glare of the flames growing blindingly bright, then subside as the blackness of space reasserts itself.

"We made it," Jolie exhales.

The PSI-Gundam blasts back towards the cosmos.

"That was one hell of a training exercise," Christian says.

"The Omega Gundam's gone," Jolie says, scanning her monitors, "It almost had us."

"That was my fault," Christian says contritely.

"Yeah," Jolie says after a moment, "Trust, remember?"

"I'm sorry, Jolie," Christian says.

"It just shows we still have a lot of work to do," Jolie replies plainly, "But the fact that we're still here shows we've come a long way in the little time we've had."

"What about the Omega Gundam and those Crossbones Vanguard mobile suits?" Christian asks.

Jolie says nothing for a long minute, then finally says, "We'll find them."

PSI-Gundam separates into WPG and CG, which vector back towards the awaiting transport ship that had brought them from Garrison Noah.


	5. EPISODE 4: JO M

**EPISODE 4: JO-M**

An Earth Federation Forces' personnel transport plies a routine flight across the Earth Sphere from Side 7 to Anman City on the Moon, one of a dozen such flights that depart from both locations weekly.

Two of the passengers aboard EFPT # 108 are Major Jolie Minh-Miguel of SNRI and her newest recruit, Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray.

Jolie is absorbed in a copy of Sun Tzu's _Art of War_ while Christian, seated next to her, fidgets nervously, leafing halfheartedly through an in-flight magazine offering little more than dry articles concerning military life interspersed with advertisements for sundry products that military personnel are deemed likely to buy. Christian, however, can't seem to get excited about a vapor-collecting water canteen made from a lunar titanium/aluminum alloy…

"Major," Christian says tentatively, "Just why are we going to Anman City, anyway?"

"To visit someone," Jolie says absently, highlighting a passage from the book as she answers her protégé.

"Who?" Christian demands, "I mean: you got me up two hours ahead of reveille, then dragged me to the spaceport to board this flight, and no matter how many times I've asked you, you still won't tell me who we're supposed to be flying across the Earth Sphere to see."

"Christian," Jolie says evenly, "What have we been talking about the past few days?"

"I know, I know," Christian replies with an impatient sigh, "Trust. I understand that, ma'am, but if trust is such a big deal, why don't you just trust me and tell me what we're doing and who we're meeting."

"When I was a new recruit," Jolie answers as she highlights another passage with her felt-tipped marker, "my commanding officer taught me that the most important part of trust is knowing who to trust, and when. I trust you, Christian…but I don't trust these walls…these windows. Eyes and ears are everywhere, so we need to be careful about what we say, and what we do."

So saying, Jolie removes a cigarette that Christian has inserted between his lips, "My habit isn't any less intense than yours; if I can wait it out, so can you."

Christian makes a wry face, and settles into his seat. After a short minute of sulking, he takes a sidelong glance at Jolie…so beautiful even as she's consumed by the words in the book in her right hand. Her left hand, so delicate and feminine, holds the yellow highlighter marker.

Christian reaches gingerly towards that hand, taking its silk-smooth warmth in his own for the briefest of instants…and then Jolie gently pulls her hand free.

Christian turns to Jolie and is met by a smoldering glare that seems to say, "Back off."

* * *

Some six hours later, Jolie and Christian have landed at Anman City, where they acquisition a jeep from the local Federal Forces base and make the short drive over to Anahem Enterprises' Skunkworks Division located on the outskirts of the lunar city.

"I used to work for AE as a test pilot," Jolie says to Christian, riding shotgun and still sulking sullenly, "I tested the WPG out here before I took it into combat."

"No kidding?" Christian says without enthusiasm.

Jolie gives Christian a sidelong look and the hint of a smile, "Still mad at me?"

"What makes you say that?" Christian responds defensively.

Jolie says nothing, pressing the accelerator to the floor.

* * *

Within minutes, Jolie and Christian clear security at the gates of the Anaheim Skunkworks' facility. Christian stares bug-eyed and open-mouthed at the numerous experimental MS units undergoing construction and testing within the facility's cavernous hangars. Not all of the MS are new units, however. Christian is surprised when he spots a familiar MS he has seen in numerous photographic stills and video images over the years…

"Hey," Christian begins, "That's…"

"Zeta Gundam," Jolie finishes, "Camile Vidan's mobile suit during the war against the Titans. I guess you know now who we're here to see."

Christian nods. Camille Vidan…the original pilot of the Zeta Gundam.

* * *

"This is Amuro's son Christian," Jolie says by way of introduction ten minutes later in Dr. Camille Vidan's office, "Christian: this is Dr. Camille Vidan."

Camille, his blue hair cropped shorter than it was during his days as an AEUG MS pilot and his eyes shining behind a pair of prescription spectacles, offers a warm smile and friendly hand to the younger man, "It's a pleasure, Christian. I knew your parents quite well, and I was quite fond of both of them."

_It always comes back to my old man_, Christian thinks wryly, even as he shakes Camille's hand and offers a forced, awkward smile.

"Christian is the newest recruit assigned to me," Jolie explains, "I'm training him to pilot the Centurion Gundam, or the Gundam-100 as you know it, Doc."

Camille nods, "That was a good machine, though falling a bit behind the times now. I think you came here to talk to me about Gundams today, didn't you?"

"Right," Jolie says, settling into business mode, "We had an encounter with the Omega Gundam not long ago. Even with the PSI-Gundam, we nearly got creamed by it. We came hoping you might be able to offer a few tips for beating it, Doc."

Camille thinks deeply for a moment before saying anything. Finally, he says with a sigh, "The Omega Gundam…yes, I heard it was stolen from the SNRI some weeks ago, and I've been quite worried ever since. The thought of its destructive potential in the hands of unscrupulous individuals is extremely disturbing."

Jolie nods, "I know. When we went head up against it, I knew that its raw power was much greater than the White Phoenix Gundam or the Centurion Gundam's. It pretty much whupped us."

"And the frightening truth is," Camille adds, "It exhibited only a fraction of its power in that skirmish. Otherwise, frankly, neither of you would be here right now."

A moment of uneasy silence follows before Jolie asks, "So how…?"

Camille, having anticipated the question, answers, "The pilot lacks the experience to draw out the full potential of the Omega Gundam. Don't forget, Jolie: you test piloted the Omega Gundam for nearly two years, and even you haven't used the Omega Gundam to its full potential yet. You're probably, however, the only person alive who can."

"I'm not so sure about that," Jolie says, removing some documents from a valise and handing them to Camille, "Check these out, Doc."

Camille studies the documents and his face clouds with worry. Finally, he says in a low voice, "These were taken from your scans of the PSI-waves emanating from the Omega Gundam?"

"Yep," Jolie says, "The EEG pattern that we recorded is…identical to mine!"

Christian pipes up, "It's true, sir. I felt it coming from the Omega Gundam – a brainwave energy pattern just like Jolie's!"

Camille is lost in memory for a moment…faces, names from the painful past…Four Murusame…Rosamia Baudam…Elpee Puru.

Camille then says to his two fellow Newtypes, "If the Omega Gundam's pilot is anything like Jolie, then you can expect that she…or he…will improve with each new battle experience. I'm afraid that if you encounter the Omega Gundam again, it's not going to get any easier for you to beat it."

"Then tell us how we can beat it, Doc," Jolie says, with an edge of impatience no less intense than Christian's.

"Everything has a weakness," Camille observes, "Even the Omega Gundam. But if you go at it with your beam weapons and missiles, you'll never find it. If you want to defeat the Omega Gundam, you'll need to overload its Biosensor system."

"Could you explain that more clearly, Doc?" Jolie presses.

"Every Gundam since the Zeta has been equipped with a Biosensor system," Camille explains, "to pick up the brainwave signal of its Newtype pilot and convert it into action signals for the Gundam unit itself. The Omega Gundam is no exception: in fact, its Biosensor system is the most sensitive and sophisticated yet, and therein lies its weakness."

"What do you mean?" Christian Ray demands.

"I put a fly in the ointment," Camille says with a slight grin, "In the event that the Omega Gundam should ever come into the possession of hostile entities. When Jolie test piloted the Omega Gundam, we often had the problem that her PSI-powers would overload and burn out the Biosensor interface systems. This will cause the Omega Gundam's combat control systems to momentarily stall, maybe long enough for the mecha to be neutralized. Technology is available to repair this flaw, but I elected not to…precisely so that we'd have this option should the Omega Gundam ever be compromised."

"All right," Jolie says, "So how can we get this Biosensor overload to work? I'm not gonna be aboard the Omega Gundam, remember?"

"You'll need to bring the White Phoenix Gundam in for a modification to its Biosensor," Camille says, then, turning to Christian, adds, "and it's probably a good idea to bring the Centurion Gundam in for the same."

"Yeah!" Christian enthuses, showing a better mood for the first time all day, "Jolie and me combined can kick anybody's ass!"

Camille looks at Christian soberly, "I can't be sure how your two PSI-patterns will work together. There'll be a great amount of raw power to be sure, but making it work together. That's…well, we can only wait and see. We know that Jonah Miguel's PSI-energy perfectly dovetailed Jolie's, and together, they created a true, controlled synergism. Unfortunately…"

Camille does not finish. Jolie's face falls into a melancholy expression, while Christian's expression is defined by resentment for a dead man he never knew.

_Why do I keep coming second to dead guys?_ Christian wonders bitterly.

* * *

Two hours later, Jolie and Christian are on a flight back to Side 7. Before leaving Anaheim Enterprises, Jolie sent a coded signal back to Garrison Noah requesting that the White Phoenix Gundam and Centurion Gundam be shipped immediately to Anaheim's skunkworks facility for the proposed Biosensor modifications.

"We still have a problem," Jolie remarks as the transport craft speeds towards Lagrange Point Three.

"And what's that?" Christian replies acidly.

"We still need a way to draw that thing out into action," Jolie says, "No preparation is going to help us if the damn thing doesn't show up."

* * *

Upon returning to Garrison Noah, Jolie and Christian take their dilemma to their SNRI colleague and friend, Major Eric Gardner of SNRI's Intelligence Division, an expert in such affairs.

"In fact," Eric tells the two MS pilots over drinks at the White Phoenix Nightclub, "We've been correlating the data we've recorded from each of the Omega Gundam's attacks, and we've definitely found a pattern: it's targeting weapons transfers, caches, etc. So if it likes weapons, then that's what we'll use to bait it."

"The High Command will court martial the whole lot of us if we put a weapons cache or armaments cargo vessel at risk," Jolie says wryly.

"C'mon, Jolie," Eric smiles rakishly, "Give me some credit, babe: I'm in the Intelligence Division, remember? You think I can't rig up some convincing fakes?"

Jolie inhales from her half-smoked cigarette and exhales with a smile, "You're right. I forgot who I'm dealing with."

"I'll take care of the bait," Eric says, "You just make sure you've got good hooks."

* * *

Unable to do more while their mobile suits are being upgraded and Major Gardner prepares his trap, Jolie and Christian retire to Jolie's luxury condo at the Utopia Towers in Green Oasis City.

Christian has just finished moving his meager possessions (not more than a few Federation Forces uniforms and a few sundry items) into the condo. Jolie has given him his own bedroom, a privilege Christian has not enjoyed since he was a small boy, and definitely not with the luxury that Jolie's condo offers (panoramic view of the city, personal bathroom, and personal telecommunications system).

Jolie has stepped into the shower, and Christian takes the time to look around the luxurious surroundings of the spacious, airy modern condominium. A warm fire burns in the fireplace, and Christian is drawn to the numerous framed photographs that Jolie keeps upon the mantel.

The first photograph that Christian spots is that of an Earth Federation Forces officer – a handsome Asian man in his mid-thirties standing in front of an antiquated GM-III mobile suit sometime during the late U.C. 0080s, around the time Christian was born. Christian reasons that this must be Jolie's father, who like his daughter, was a MS pilot.

The second photo shows Jolie in an officer's cadet uniform, sitting next to a very attractive, slim honey-blonde young woman that Christian recognizes as Minerva Zabi, the current Deputy Prime Minister of the Shambala Republic. Christian is familiar enough with the Federation's recent military lore to know that Deputy Prime Minister Zabi was once Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz of the Earth Federation Special Forces (which has since evolved into SNRI), and was Jolie's commanding officer during the war against the Zeon warlords of the Outer Sphere. The photo must be nearly ten years old, and Christian marvels at how little Jolie and Minerva Zabi have aged in that time. They look today not very different from how they looked then, though they were teenagers when the photograph was taken and each is now in her mid-twenties.

The third photograph shows a happy, smiling Jolie in the loving embrace of a very handsome young man, both of them clad in Earth Federation Forces uniforms. Christian can read the handsome young officer's name from the patch on his uniform jacket, "Capt. Jonah Michaels." The couple looks so good together in the photograph…so young…so beautiful…so happily in love.

Much to Christian's chagrin.

Turning away from the image that so riles him, Christian casts his eyes on the next photo, which only serves to bring his mounting anger to a boil.

The face in the photograph is also familiar to Christian…more familiar than any other aside from his own because, a few discrepancies aside, it is not dissimilar to his own. A similar shock of dark brown, almost reddish hair sits atop two intense soulful eyes.

Amuro Ray…Christian's father, haunting his dreams even here, even now.

_Why the hell does Jolie have a photo of HIM?!_ Christian wonders.

The door of Jolie's bedroom opens, and anger transmogrifies into lustful thrill as Christian spots Jolie clad only in a large t-shirt that barely covers the top of her thighs.

Christian's heart, pounding like a thousand pistons powered by a nuclear fusion engine, is stuck somewhere in his throat. He tries to speak, but manages to make only a gurgling sound as the view of Jolie's shapely figure and wonderfully bare legs turns his own legs into jelly.

Seemingly oblivious to the reaction she is provoking in Christian, Jolie asks, "What the hell are you looking at?"

"Err..ah…," Christian says, fairly sure that it isn't what he meant to say, then settles on, "These photos! Er…great…photos!"

Jolie sighs as she sets eyes on the all-too familiar images, "These are some of the people who've been important to me during my life."

"That's your dad, isn't it?" Christian asks, indicating the least objectionable (to him) of the photos.

Jolie offers Christian a light smile, "Pretty perceptive of you. Yeah, that's my daddy: Captain Dominic Minh of the Quebec Colony Civil Defense Guard, Earth Federation Forces. He was killed…along with my mom and older brother, when Alexander Miguel attacked our home colony back in 0092."

"I'm sorry," Christian says sincerely, knowing firsthand the bitterness of growing up an orphan.

"Daddy was a good soldier," Jolie says grimly, "He died protecting us…all of us."

Attempting to turn Jolie's thoughts away from such dark memories, Christian remarks on the second photo, "That's Minerva Zabi, isn't it?"

Jolie smiles, "Yeah. But in those days, she was Captain Athena Ibaz of the Centurion Team. I'll tell you: in all my life, I've never met a character quite like 'Thena. She was really what people would call an 'officer and a lady.' Everything I know about being an officer, about leading a team, about winning a battle...about being a woman, 'Thena taught me. She even taught me how to dress better."

Staring at Jolie's gorgeous thighs again, Christian pries his eyes away only with the greatest effort.

"She taught you well..." he manages to whisper through shallow breaths.

The youth's eyes fall on an image that pleases him much less, "That dude in the photo with you: that was your husband, wasn't it? Jonah Michaels?"

"Jonah _Miguel_," Jolie corrects, reaching for the photo and fingering it lovingly, "He had the most beautiful soul of anyone I've ever known, Christian. He made me happier than anyone else ever could."

That last sentence causes Christian to bristle, "You're still in love with him, aren't you?"

Jolie shoots Christian a deadly glare that says, _What kind of a question is THAT?!_

Christian is not finished yet, though he refocuses the source of his growing irritation, "What about that picture of my dad, then? What's up with that?"

Jolie tosses her long, lustrous hair before replying, "Captain Amuro saved my life when I was a little girl. I would have been killed along with my parents and brother by Alexander Miguel and his forces, but your father rescued me. I became a Federation MS pilot partly because of him. He's my personal hero."

Christian's expression registers his distaste, "Yeah…Amuro Ray…the 'great hero' of the Earth Federation Forces…the knight in shining white armor. The world doesn't know, though, that this so-called 'hero' couldn't even live up to the most basic responsibility of all."

"Christian," Jolie replies, "That isn't fair. Amuro didn't know about you. Velotrica never told him. If he had known, things would have been different. He wouldn't have abandoned you."

"How do you know?" Christian challenges, bitterness in his voice.

Not wanting her protégé's thoughts to continue down this dark direction, Jolie takes Christian earnestly by the hand and says to him gently, "Christian, remember what we've been talking about: trust. It's not going to work out for us as partners if we don't trust each other. I want you to trust me. I want to know that I can trust you. The fact is, though, that we barely know each other."

So saying, Jolie smiles at Christian and tugs him towards the fireplace in the den, where a warm fire has burned since they returned home, "Come here."

Christian is momentarily curious, but curiosity quickly becomes a fresh burst of lustful excitement as Jolie seats herself crosslegged in front of the fire, her t-shirt covering nothing below her supple waist, the curves of her silk-smooth thighs and buttocks divinely captivating.

Struggling against such irresistible distractions, Christian mirrors Jolie's posture, taking a seat face to face with her.

Still holding his hand, Jolie says, "Close your eyes…clear your mind…"

Christian does as Jolie instructs, clearing his mind of thoughts both pleasant and unpleasant…and soon…it all becomes clear…

_They see each other's lives, as if they were their own memories…joys, sorrows, triumphs, and defeats. They know each other's fears, and each other's dreams. They see each other's darkest, loneliest moments, and the indomitable spirit that guides them. For the briefest of instants, they are one…_

Minutes pass into hours as they sit, their minds united…until material reality intrudes in the form of Jolie's trilling comlink.

Jolie opens her eyes, unfolds her lovely legs, and darts to the coffee table where her comlink rests.

"Major Minh-Miguel here," Jolie says into the receiver.

"Jolie, it's Eric," comes the voice of Major Eric Gardner, "Get that cute ass of yours down to the garrison, _pronto_! I've got something for you!"

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Jolie and Christian are in a secured conference room with Major Gardner at Garrison Noah.

"This is the plan," Eric announces, "We've been sending out false communiqués about an arms shipment from Frontier 8 to Side 7 that will take place within seventy-two hours. There will be dummy warships, dummy MS, and dummy armaments that we hope will be good enough bait for the Omega Gundam. We've made a pretense of keeping this information secure, but leaked out just barely enough data that anyone who's tracking such data won't miss it."

"Nice work," Jolie says, "But isn't it a bit risky drawing the Omega Gundam so close to Side 7?"

"It is," Eric confesses, "but bringing it here means you guys will have plenty of back up if you need it. Also, it gives us the option of dragging it in and impounding it immediately before anybody else can get their hands on it."

"Makes sense," Jolie admits, "But our Gundam units won't be back from getting the necessary modifications for at least another twenty-four hours, and that's plenty of time for the message to be received. Let's just hope that whoever has the Omega Gundam doesn't make their move before we've got our own Gundam units back."

"The location was up to us," Eric says, "but the timing, not as much. We'll wait and see…and pray it isn't a disaster."

* * *

Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi is in her office, on the phone with Prime Minister Artasia Rem Daikun.

"I hear the tones of secession in each word that the Defense Minister says," the Prime Minister says worriedly, "but we've got nothing on him that's actionable."

"Even if we did," Minerva says, "We couldn't well take that action without risking civil war."

"You're right," Artasia answers, "And that's something we can't afford. After five years, we've finally got this nation stabilized, but if we were to go to war with our own…"

Hathaway Noah appears at the door, indicating that he has something urgent to discuss with Minerva.

"Madame Prime Minister," Minerva says, "May we continue this conversation later?"

Minerva can hear Artasia's smile across the phone line, "Someone more important than I am want your attention?"

"You might say that," Minerva replies.

"I envy you," Artasia says, and then adds, "We'll talk about it later then, Minerva."

"Thank you, Artasia," Minerva answers, then closes the line.

"Something important?" Minerva asks her husband.

"I wouldn't interrupt a call from the Prime Minister if it weren't," Hathaway says, "But first…a moment's frivolous indulgence."

Hathaway and Minerva exchange a long, breathless, lustful kiss…their passion for each other as intense as it was when they first fell in love as teenagers nearly a decade ago.

"So…what…did…you…come…to…tell…me?" Minerva pants.

Hathaway, also panting, says, "Communiqué…we…intercepted…from Side 7. Federation is receiving a huge arms shipment at Garrison Noah in about seventy hours from now."

"Really?" Minerva says curiously, "It isn't like SNRI to be so sloppy, is it?"

"No, it isn't," Hathaway agrees, "Looks like the Federation is hunting big game, and is luring it out with a huge hunk of meat."

Minerva says, "More likely, a piece of garbage dressed up to look and smell like meat."

"So…?" Hathaway begins meaningfully.

"So…" Minerva replies cryptically.

The couple exchanges a knowing nod.

* * *

Some time later at Garrison Noah, the White Phoenix Gundam and Centurion Gundam return to their assigned maintenance docks, having been refitted with improved Biosensor systems by Dr. Camille Vidan's staff of technicians at Anaheim Skunkworks.

Jolie and Christian run full diagnostic scans of the new Biosensor systems, making sure that they function precisely as Dr. Vidan informed them they would.

Presently, the pair is seated in the cockpit of Jolie's White Phoenix Gundam, Jolie in the pilot/mecha commander's seat, and Christian at the engineering station. Both are clad in normalsuits and helmets, which have received upgrades for use with the new Biosensor system.

"This is way more sensitive than the old system," Jolie remarks, "but that's just a side benefit of the modifications that Camille made. This is how we're going to take down the Omega Gundam."

"Can't wait to kick its butt after what it did to us last time," Christian says eagerly.

"You mean what it did to _you_ last time," Jolie corrects acidly.

"OK, OK," Christian answers irritably, "This time, I'll rescue you, OK?"

"Christian," Jolie says, her tone becoming serious, "When we go up against the Omega Gundam again, don't merge your PSI-powers with mine unless I order you to, understand?"

"Why?" Christian challenges, "That's the only sure way we have of…"

"What we can't be sure of," Jolie cuts in, "is whether or not we can control our joined power well enough that we don't destroy a whole lot more than the Omega Gundam's control system. We don't want to take that risk if we don't have to. Do you get me, Chief Ray?"

Christian bites his lip for moment before reluctantly muttering, "Yes, ma'am."

Jolie gives Christian an affectionate punch to the shoulder that he wishes could be a kiss to the lips instead.

* * *

Within hours, the Centurion Team has been deployed, concealed amidst asteroids and space debris in the general orbital path of Side 7.

From the heading of the Frontier 8 space colonies, a fleet of Earth Federation Forces cargo ships enters the Side 7 Zone, their holds loaded with empty shells of mobile suits and warheads.

In nearby space, concealed Centurion Team mobile suits stand by…ready to pounce on command.

Radio silence is maintained among all Centurion Team MS; the only radio signals being broadcast and received are the faux communications between the commanding officer of the convoy fleet (actually, an SNRI officer) and the control tower at Garrison Noah. As the pilot of the Omega Gundam is almost certainly a Newtype, Jolie and Christian dare not communicate with one another even using their PSI abilities for fear of detection.

Tension builds in every breath, every heartbeat, and every bead of perspiration as the convoy slowly makes its way towards Garrison Noah.

Then, they sense it…Jolie first, and Christian an instant later…an unmistakable sense of pressure that indicates the presence of a powerful Newtype.

"It's her…" Jolie whispers to herself.

_Her? _Jolie wonders, _How do I know so certainly that it's a "her?"_

The Omega Gundam appears, visible only by the twin slits of green that illuminate its main camera mounts and the various service lights on its body. The rogue mobile suit bears down upon the convoy…then suddenly veers away from it…towards the concealed MS of the Centurion Team!

"What th'…?!" Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray has time to bite out before his Centurion Gundam is bowled down by a charging Omega Gundam.

Jolie turns the White Phoenix Gundam towards the Omega Gundam and attempts to get off a shot from the WPG's beam rifle. Jolie has the Omega Gundam bracketed in the targeting scope of the WPG, distance and rate of speed marked. Jolie depresses the trigger on the control stick.

The response is slow…the beam finally unleashes from the WPG's beam rifle a half second late, and missing the Omega Gundam by fifty meters.

"'Th' hell?!" Jolie wonders.

The Omega Gundam counter-fires with a salvo of beam blasts that forces the WPG to momentarily

The Omega Gundam presses its attack, and is confronted by a pair of Strike Jegans piloted by Chief Warrant Officer Rayann Zhang and Chief Warrant Officer Amy Chu, respectively. Rayann and Amy, two of the top graduates of the SNRI MS combat training program, were handpicked by Jolie for the Centurion Team for their excellent training records. Though inexperienced, each has proven herself a formidable MS pilot.

So disdainful of the two young Centurions is the Omega Gundam, however, that it does not bother to use its suite of weapons against them…opting instead to remove them from the battle with well-placed strikes of its massive armored fists, wrecking their camera units and blinding them.

The Omega Gundam turns its arm-mounted energy shield in time to block incoming beam strikes from Major Eric Gardner's Strike Gundam and Captain Chieming Noah's Cour de Leon-Kai. The Omega Gundam draws its beam saber and slashes at Eric and Chieming's mobile suits, removing one arm from each.

Jolie and Christian have the WPG and Centurion Gundam back on the attack, hammering at the Omega Gundam with their combined fire. The Omega Gundam, however, succeeds in evading their fire.

_Something's wrong_, Jolie cannot help feeling, _our weapons systems are a half-step behind... _

Jolie has no time to ruminate on such matters, however, as she and Christian continue pouring on the gunfire.

The Omega Gundam, however, deflects or evades it all deftly, daring its opponents to attack it again.

"Damn it!" Jolie snarls as the Omega Gundam's counter-fire nearly tags her.

Jolie realizes that her concern for her teammates is hindering her from going after the Omega Gundam, and opens the tactical net, "Centurion Leader to all units: clear out and withdraw!"

"Ma'am…" Christian protests.

"YOU! OUT! NOW!" Jolie shouts as she dives the White Phoenix Gundam directly at the Omega Gundam.

Christian opens communications to his comrades-at-arms, "Centurion Three to all units. Major Gardner? Captain Noah? Chief Zhang? Chief Chu?"

One-by-one, the Centurions acknowledge…their mobile suits have all sustained damage, but at least they remain alive.

Satisfied, Christian directs his Centurion Gundam in the direction that the White Phoenix Gundam and the Omega Gundam had taken off.

* * *

Two Gundams exchange fire from every weapons system their arsenals have to offer…beam rifle, beam cannon, Vulcan rounds, missiles, Psychom funnels…all of it is called into play.

Strike…dodge…feint…strike again…Jolie feels as if she is fighting her own shadow, the Omega Gundam mirroring her every move…

_This isn't getting me anywhere_, Jolie realizes, _Whoever is piloting that monster is as good as Kyoko Yamaguchi…or better! Got to end this, now!_

Jolie engages the new Biosensor booster system that Camille had installed into the White Phoenix Gundam. Receptors built into the lining of Jolie's helmet pick up and retransmit her brainwave energy into the White Phoenix Gundam's circuitry, leading to a buildup of energy in the WPG's nuclear fusion core.

The PSI-energy radiates outward…washing over the Omega Gundam.

_C'mon…go down, you…_Jolie grits her teeth, focusing on the Biosensor.

But the Omega Gundam is not giving a centimeter…the pilot is pushing back against Jolie with an equal counter-pressure…no matter how intensely Jolie strains…she cannot trigger the overload that Camille predicted would result.

_Biosensor device is functioning, _Jolie notes,_ but the Omega Gundam's systems are resisting the pressure I'm laying down...did whoever's operating it discover the weakness and fix it?_

Jolie realizes that if such is really the case, then she's in great danger because both she and the Omega Gundam's Newtype pilot are locked in a deadly stalemate that neither can afford to break.

_Jonah_...Jolie implores.

"Ma'am!" Christian's voice comes through Jolie's helmet receivers.

"I ordered you to pull back!" Jolie snaps.

"Like hell I would," Christian retorts, "with you in trouble!"

Christian quickly gathers the situation and activates the Centurion Gundam's own Biosensor booster…adding his PSI-energy to Jolie's…exerting the pressure back against the Omega Gundam.

"Christian…" Jolie grates, "We're…gonna overload…disengage, now!"

"No…" Christian answers, "We've almost got her…"

_Her? _Yes…_her! _For a moment, all three of them are connected…fully experiencing each other's thoughts, emotions, and memories…

The energy recoils and casts all three Gundams in shells of electric current, causing internal circuitry explosions. Smoke fills the cockpits of each of the mecha.

Jolie activates emergency backup power from the secondary generator and also internal ventilation fans to remove the smoke…cockpit indicators show that the WPG is losing power…with energy levels having fallen to forty percent and still dropping.

Jolie glances out the fading side monitor of her linear seat cockpit and notes that the Centurion Gundam must be suffering from similar problems as it too, goes limp.

For a moment, the eyes of the Omega Gundam darken, then come to life again…sparks shooting out of exposed circuitry panels. It too has sustained heavy damage.

For another moment, there is stillness among the three crippled Gundam units. The Omega Gundam raises its beam rifle weakly, pointing it at the helpless Centurion Gundam.

"No…" Jolie snarls, memories of Jonah flashing through her mind.

The WPG, however, does not respond to Jolie's manipulations…energy has fallen below minimal operable levels. Only life support is being maintained by the backup generator.

A beam rifle shot glances the Omega Gundam. The weakened OG turns to see Major Eric Gardner's Strike Gundam, beam rifle extended in its remaining good hand, taking shots at it.

The Omega Gundam converts to mobile armor configuration and, with a burst of thrust, vectors away from the scene.

"Major Minh! Chief Ray!," Gardner calls out, "You two all right?"

Jolie opens communications, "A-OK here, Major Gardner…although I can't say the same for the White Phoenix Gundam. Circuitry is completely burned out. Christian?"

"I'm OK," comes the youth's voice, "Same story on the CG, though. Nothing's working here except life support."

"All of our MS are in bad shape," Gardner grouses, "I've radioed for a recovery crew. They'll be picking us up in a few minutes. We certainly fucked this operation up today."

Jolie opens the cockpit of the White Phoenix Gundam and floats out, magnetizing herself to the shell of the MS with a hand held device. Christian does the same from the Centurion Gundam.

Jolie shoots the youth a reproachful glare, and Christian can only turn away in embarrassment.

* * *

An hour later, the mobile suits of the Centurion Team have been transported back to Garrison Noah for repairs. Considering the amount of damage they sustained, it would likely be at least five days before any of the team's MS are ready to sortie into combat again.

Jolie stalks down the gantry with her helmet in the crook of her arm, refusing to stop or look back towards Christian, who chases after her apologetically.

"I know I disobeyed your orders, ma'am," Christian pleads, "But you were in danger. I couldn't…"

"Chief Ray," Jolie says, "I don't want to hear another word from you. You continue to fail at trusting your comrades in combat. Until you do that, you'll never be a good soldier. Christian…frankly, I'm really beginning to have doubts about whether I can train you. Not when you don't trust me enough to follow my orders."

"Jolie, I'm sorry…I…," Christian answers.

Jolie disregards him, disappearing into the pilot's locker for women officers.

"Shit!" Christian spits, throwing his helmet to the gantry, creating a loud echo in the maintenance deck.

Christian steps over to the railing, watching intently as maintenance crews begin assessing the damage to his Centurion Gundam.

_That pilot_, Christian reflects back, _Who is…__**she**__?"_

_

* * *

  
_

In the shower of the officer's locker, Jolie allows the hot water to run over her head and onto her body as she thinks thoughts along a similar line, _The Omega Gundam was piloted by someone whose brainwave patterns matched my own, but that isn't possible, unless…_

Jolie remembers a conversation she had with Athena years ago, when Jolie was a new recruit on the Centurion Team.

* * *

_July, U.C. 0098…_

_Chief Warrant Officer Jolie Minh directs the Centurion Gundam in a series of intricate maneuvers, skeeting target drone after target drone with the beam rifle of her mobile suit. _

_Aboard her Cour de Leon, Captain Athena Ibaz carefully records the data being transmitted from the CG's onboard computer._

_Athena nods approvingly, "One-hundred percent target efficiency. Nice shooting, Jolie!"_

"_Yeah!" Jolie enthuses, fist pumped, "I'm the baddest of the badasses!"_

_Athena smiles, "Your grammar certainly is 'baddest,' but your combat instincts are great. The Federation would love to have a whole army of you."_

_Jolie answers, "Well too bad, 'cause there's only one!"_

"_For now," Athena replies, "But both the Federation and Zeon have invested heavily in the research of cloning technology, and both sides have made use of cloned soldiers in the past."_

"_That's scary," Jolie says, "You mean they could make another me?"_

_Athena says, "She wouldn't be quite the same, because she wouldn't have your memories or experiences. Physically, however, she would be identical to you."_

_Jolie says nothing, undoubtedly unnerved by the idea._

"_Don't worry," Athena says reassuringly, "Over my dead body would I let the Federation use you for something like that."_

_

* * *

  
_

Jolie opens her eyes, the water continuing to run over her. As steamy hot as the water is, Jolie trembles with an icy coldness emanating from deep inside her…

* * *

The Omega Gundam limps to a landing at an undisclosed location within an abandoned space colony, settling upon a pad constructed to receive it.

The mighty mobile suit's cockpit hatch opens, and a slim feminine figure dressed in an all-black normalsuit floats downward as the airlocks seal, landing on the pad just as gravity asserts itself.

Footsteps are heard as the familiar figure of Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi steps into the light.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the pilot, evidently a girl, says to Minerva, "I failed to destroy the White Phoenix Gundam and Centurion Gundam as you instructed."

Minerva puts her flesh-and-blood right hand warmly on the pilot's normalsuited shoulder, saying in a reassuring tone, "I told you before you went that it would not be easy. Don't worry about it: the data you collected on them will help us devise a way to beat them, Jo-M."

"Jo-M" removes her helmet, revealing a familiar, silk-smooth face and long, jet-black hair.

"Yes, ma'am," Jo-M says.

Minerva fondly touches the girl's face, "You're just like her, but so different."

"Jolie Minh is an obstacle to our goals, ma'am," Jo-M says coldly, "I promise you that I'll destroy her."

Minerva's look becomes reproachful, "You'll do only as I order, Jo. It's good that you have grown accustomed to taking your own initiative, but some initiatives, you are not to take, particularly in regards to Jolie Minh, is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jo-M replies dutifully.

Having made her point, Minerva gives the attractive young MS pilot a warm, sisterly embrace and dismisses her.

The former Duchess of Zeon stares up at the damaged Omega Gundam and sighs, pulling out a handkerchief from the pocket of her jacket and using it to wipe the fingers of both hands. Her organic hand then flies to her belly.

_Jolie…_Minerva thinks ruefully…_I'm so sorry I had to do this._


	6. EPISODE 5: THE HAMMER

**EPISODE 5: THE HAMMER**

_Damn kid didn't even tell me about his burn injuries_, Major Jolie Minh-Miguel grouses silently as she swabs medicinal fluid onto the skin of her junior executive officer's, Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray, torso.

"Ow!" Christian complains, as Jolie works the cotton ball across his skin, "A little gentler, will ya? You're fucking ripping my skin off!"

"I _should_," Jolie retorts, but nonetheless going easier with the cotton ball, "For not telling me right away how badly you got burned."

Indeed, in the initial aftermath of their most recent skirmish against the Omega Gundam, Christian had sustained first-degree burn wounds upon parts of his arm, upper right torso, and right leg when the Centurion Gundam's internal systems overloaded, resulting the control panel spewing forth a shower of sparks that burned through the young Federation soldier's protective normalsuit.

Jolie did not discover Christian's injuries until after they had both returned to Garrison Noah and disembarked from their mobile suits. Over the youth's objections, Jolie rushed him to the veteran's hospital, where the combat surgeon judged Christian's burns to be of the first-degree…nothing the young man wouldn't be able to fully recover from in time.

The combat surgeon's sanguine prognosis notwithstanding, Jolie hasn't stopped fussing over her protégé's injuries in the three days that have passed since the battle from which they resulted…the outcome of which, Jolie has reminded Christian at least a dozen times, was the result of his own refusal to obey orders.

The medicinal swabbing done, next comes a fresh dressing of the already-healing wounds. Jolie gently wraps the affected portions of Christian's upper torso…near the ribs on his right side…in soft, white cotton gauze.

At seventeen, Christian is lean and athletic…taller than either of his parents, with better defined musculature than his father had. Jolie would never admit it to Christian, but she can't help admitting to herself that his chest is rather…sexy.

Christian stares into the ethereal beauty of Jolie's silky smooth complexion as the soft, light warmth of her hands gently winds the gauze around him.

Jolie notices Christian's stare and offers him a mischievous grin, "What are you looking at?"

Christian says softly, "Nobody has been as good to me as you have, Jolie…not since my mom died."

Jolie replies as she continues to wind the gauze, "We're both war orphans. I can relate to the things you doubtless feel."

His mouth dry, Christian begins tentatively, "Jolie…I…"

Jolie finishes wrapping the bandage around Christian with an emphatic final pull that causes him to yelp. She leans forwards to kiss him on the forehead.

The sensation causes Christian's heartbeat to go into overdrive, and a strange sense of vertigo that works it way from the base of his skull to his stomach…but with the thrill comes a strangely juxtaposed sense of disappointment. The kiss was given with sincere affection, Christian is certain of that much…but it was altogether too…sisterly. Jolie kissed him the way an older sister might kiss her kid brother…not at all what he had been hoping for, and anticipating. There was love in that kiss, but no passion…

Jolie washes her hands at the faucet of the bathroom attached to Christian's bedroom in her luxurious penthouse condo suite in Green Oasis City, and calls out to him, "Get ready. We're going out."

"Going out where?" Christian says, an irritated tone in his voice, "It's Sunday morning, and we aren't on assignment. Can't a body get a break on Sunday in this outfit…'specially a burned body?"

"It is Sunday morning," Jolie affirms, "And while bodies, burned or otherwise, do deserve a break on Sunday, you want to make sure your soul doesn't burn when it's all said and done."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Christian demands.

"'Hell' is the word," Jolie replies with another mischievous grin, "Sunday morning mass starts in less than an hour. I'm going even if you aren't."

Christian is aware that Jolie is a practicing Catholic…attending mass each Sunday morning for as long as he's known her (which, Christian acknowledges, hasn't been that long). Several times, she invited him to attend mass services with her, but each time, he refused.

Not this time, however, "All right. Let me put on a fresh uniform."

"Something cleaned and ironed," Jolie says, "I don't want you walking into the church looking and smelling like you just returned from active combat."

"Heh," Christian chuckles, donning a uniform jacket he had personally ironed the previous day.

"Your profile says that you're Catholic, so I figure…" Jolie asks.

"I'm not sure if I can say that I really am or not," Christian says, buttoning up his uniform jacket, "but Mom was. She was actually lapsed…pretty much atheist before she had me. After…Amuro died, she sort of found her faith again. That's why she named me 'Christian.' Said she hoped I wouldn't ever lose my faith like she did. Had me baptized and everything…took me to mass every Sunday, so I guess…yeah, I'd be considered Catholic, sort of. After she died, though, I lapsed. Just couldn't bother with it anymore."

"Same with me," Jolie says, "When I was a little girl, I went to mass with my parents and my big brother every Sunday. After they died, I stopped going too. I started going again after Jonah died…more to pray for him than to pray for myself. Not that he needs it; Jonah was the closest thing to a saint you could ever meet."

Christian smiles conspiratorially, "What about you?"

Jolie answers, "I'm a bad girl. I'm going to hell for sure."

The pair laughs as they enter the private elevator car, descending…to street level.

* * *

Officially, the Gothic cathedral that stands near the city center area of Green Oasis City is designated the Holy Church of the Saint Monica of the Merciful Heart, but locals generally refer to the edifice as Saint Monica's Cathedral. Built to resemble a smaller version of Paris' famous Cathedral of Notre Dame, Saint Monica is the largest church among all the Side 7 colonies, and the fifth largest off-planet.

The plaintive sound of Gregorian chant echoes through the cathedral's central nave.

Jolie and Christian kneel side by side at a pew located in the right side of the nave. In mid-prayer, Christian opens one eye and steals a glance at Jolie…her youthful face radiant even partially hidden behind the black _mantilla_ veil required of all female churchgoers.

Christian shuts his eyes tightly and labors to focus on the sermon; this really is the wrong place and time to be having lustful thoughts…

The priest turns to the congregation and offers a solemn final blessing, "_Corpus Domini nostri Jesu Christi custodiat animam tuam in vitam aeternam. Amen."_

_

* * *

_

Following the conclusion of mass services, after the other parishioners have departed, Jolie and Christian remain in the nave of the cathedral church as the mournful tones Gregorian chant continue to peal through the cavernous space. Clad in their Earth Federation Forces uniforms, officer's cloak draped over their shoulders, the pair resembles two medieval knights awaiting pre-battle benediction.

"What are waiting around for?" Christian says impatiently, "Let's go."

"Not yet," Jolie answers, "There's someone I want you to meet today. Someone…who might be able to offer you a few insights that you might find valuable."

"Oh?" Christian says challengingly, "Who?"

Jolie smiles as she spots a small figure approaching them, "There she is right now."

Christian turns and spots a short, slightly built nun approaching them. Though slightly over the age of forty, the nun appears about a decade younger than her actual age…the visible roots of her hair going grey, but the hairs themselves retaining their original auburn color. Her eyes are weary…perhaps having once shed too many tears for too many sorrows, but nevertheless sparkle with a clearness that emanates directly from her soul.

"Major Minh-Miguel," the nun smiles, "It's been many months since we've seen each other. I'm happy to see you here."

"Sister Frau," Jolie says warmly, "Thank you for taking the time to come and meet with me today. I wanted to introduce you to someone…my adjutant officer. Tell me…if you recognize him."

Sister Frau Bow casts her kindly eyes upon the tall, wiry young man standing next to Jolie, and her face freezes in impossible recognition. She opens her mouth to speak, but for a long moment, is unable to produce any sound. Finally, comes a barely audible, hopeful whisper, "Amuro…"

Christian, taken aback by the unexpected mention of his father's name, says, "My name is Christian, Sister…Christian Ray. Amuro…was my father."

"Yes," Sister Frau answers with another whisper, "Oh, you look so much like him…taller, but otherwise…"

Jolie interjects, "Christian…Sister Frau was a good friend of Amuro's. They grew up together here at Side 7 during the Seventies…before the One Year War."

"Sister Frau," Christian says, "My mother mentioned you a few times when I was little."

"Who was your mother, Christian?" Frau asks.

"Velotrika Irma," Christian replies.

"Velotrika Irma," Sister Frau repeats, "Velotrika…I never met your mother, Christian. But my late husband Hayato told me about her. He described her as a hot-blooded woman unafraid to speak her mind, and back it with action…the very kind that Amuro would love most."

Christian does not know what to say, and thus, says nothing.

Sister Frau smiles benignly, taking the youth's hand, "Come…there's so much we need to discuss. Major Minh…would you join us?"

"Of course, Sister," Jolie says.

* * *

Nearly two hours later, in the garden that occupies the central courtyard of the church, Sister Frau concludes her discussion of her relationship with Amuro Ray – from the time they met as school children during the early UC 0070s, through the One Year War and their time as fellow Earth Federation Forces soldiers aboard the _White Base_, up through their last correspondences shortly before Amuro's death in UC 0093.

"I want to thank you, Sister Frau, for sharing all that with me," Christian says, "There's so much that I didn't know about…Amuro. My mother was very reluctant to talk about him with me."

"Understandable," Sister Frau said, "Christian…I don't want to give you the wrong impression. I'm not trying to tell you that Amuro was a saint. He wasn't. The Lord knows how I used to get on him for being selfish and hotheaded, and he sometimes was. He wasn't perfect, Christian…any more than any of us are, but deep down, Amuro cared. He cared about those he loved, and even those he hated. I think it's important that you know that about him."

Christian nods quietly.

"One more thing I want to say, Christian," Frau says softly, "It's important to have faith in others…even when they aren't at their best. It's when they aren't that they need that faith more than ever."

"Thank you, Sister Frau," Christian says, embracing the nun, once his father's closest friend.

Frau gives the young man a final smile and an affectionate pat on the cheek and disappears into the cathedral, to see to her daily duties.

Jolie, who had been quietly polishing off a cigarette while Christian had his discussion with Sister Frau, now rejoins him.

"Thanks," Christian says to Jolie.

"For what?" Jolie asks.

"I understand why you brought me here today," Christian replies, "You wanted me to find faith in other people again…starting with my dad."

Jolie grins conspiratorially, "I did it for entirely selfish reasons: so you'd start trusting me in combat. The next time we go up against the Omega Gundam, we're not going to lose…at least not because we failed to trust each other."

The sore point unavoidable, Christian pauses before asking, "Do you really think…that the pilot of the Omega Gundam is a _clone _of you?"

Jolie nods, "All the data we have on the Omega Gundam points in that direction, and I know that it's not just technologically possible, but done before. The Titans created the clones Four Murusame and Rosamia Baudam to pilot their Psycho Gundam units during the Gryps Conflict, and the Axis Zeon produced the Ple twins to do the same for their own experimental MS a year later."

"But who's behind it?" Christian wonders, "Who has the resources to do something like that now…and who obviously has a beef with both the Federation and the Shambala Republic?"

Jolie says nothing…her lips becoming a thin, angry line.

Christian's thoughts turn in another direction, and he places another question to Jolie, "So what are we going to do about this clone, if that's what it is?"

"We're going to kill her," Jolie says without the slightest hesitation.

The words, delivered with utter, ruthless decisiveness, seemingly so out of place in the midst of a house of worship named for a patron of mercy, send a chill down Christian's spine.

"But ma'am," Christian responds, "She…"

"She's an abomination," Jolie bites out, "Created by a sick mind for a sick purpose. As soldiers of the Earth Federation Forces, our duty is to put her down before she hurts any more people."

"Yes, ma'am," Christian says, but unable, ultimately, to lay aside certain doubts.

_Faith…_

_

* * *

_

"You can't tell me you don't think he's cute, Rayann," sixteen-year old Chief Warrant Officer Amy Chu says to her best friend, Chief Warrant Rayann Zhang (a year older than Amy), "I've seen the way you look at him in the officer's mess and in the corridors!"

"The same way you look at him," Rayann says with a coy grin, "There's nothing you can accuse me of that you aren't equally guilty of."

"Hey," Amy protests, "At least I'm not the one who left a boyfriend back home at Side 6..."

Rayann tosses a cushion at Amy, "Will you quit saying that, already? Kevin isn't my boyfriend anymore, our relationship ended when I joined the Federal Forces."

Amy sighs, "I really hate the idea of having to compete with you…my best friend."

Rayann answers, "You won't have to. Neither of us have a chance in hell – because it's pretty clear that Christian has his eyes on the Major."

"Damn her," Amy complains, "All the cute guys want _her_."

Rayann smiles, "It's that 'White Phoenix' Mystique, you know? How can we hope to compete with that?"

Amy tosses her long, lustrous hair, "She's a married woman, though."

"Was married," Rayann reminds her friend, "Her husband died years ago. You knew them when you were really little."

"Yeah, I did," Amy replies, "If not for Jolie and Jonah, I'd probably have died in wilderness down on Earth al those years ago. Jolie is my hero too, Rayann, but having known her since back then…well, she's changed a lot."

"Losing the love of your life will do that to a person," Rayann remarks dryly.

"I suppose, but…"

Amy does not finish her statement as Jolie and Christian enter.

"Ma'am!" Amy and Rayann snap to attention, saluting their commanding officer.

Jolie returns their salutes and grins at her two charges' skimpy casualwear, consisting of little more than oversized t-shirts, "Sorry to not have told you we were coming in this morning. It was sort of spur of the moment."

Amy and Rayann garble out some sort of response that Jolie doesn't care to decipher, and then she tells them, "Get dressed and report to the Conference Room at precisely 13:30. We have important matters to discuss."

Jolie turns and walks away, and Christian joins her, but not before stealing a glance back towards Amy and Rayann and giving them a rakish wink, causing them both to blush.

* * *

At precisely 13:30 (twenty minutes later), Jolie has the Centurion Team convened in the conference room – herself, Christian, Captain Chieming Noah, Major Eric Gardner, Chief Warrant Officers Amy Chu and Rayann Zhang, and Col. Christina McKenzie, present at Jolie's request.

"Based on the data from our combat experiences against the Omega Gundam to date," Jolie tells her fellow officers, "its pilot is most likely a Newtype clone…of me."

The pronouncement produces gasps of shock amidst the Federal Forces officers. For a long moment, there is only stunned silence.

"Newtype cloning technology isn't new," Col. Christina McKenzie observes, "But it's also not something that just anybody can accomplish. Costly resources are necessary for it to happen…to say nothing of access to samples of your DNA, Major Minh-Miguel."

"Have there been any break-ins at the medical labs that house Federal Forces personnel's tissue samples?" Jolie asks.

"Nothing like that in years," Col. McKenzie affirms, "Not since long before you were recruited, Major."

That only solidifies Jolie's suspicions, though she judiciously bites her tongue.

"If it is indeed a clone piloting the Omega Gundam," Jolie tells her team, "Then destroying her is imperative…even if we must destroy the Omega Gundam as well."

"Major Minh-Miguel," Major Gardner interjects, "May I offer a suggestion?"

"Go ahead, Eric," Jolie says.

"As Col. McKenzie was intimating," Eric muses, "Whoever produced this supposed 'Jolie-clone' must have access to vast resources. Whoever they are, they can possibly produce more clones of you…or of Camille Vidan, Amuro Ray, Judau Ashta…whoever. Even if we succeed in destroying the clone, the real threat will still be out there…and we'll have no way of tracing the source."

Jolie sees what Eric is getting at, "So are you suggesting that we use a reverse Trojan Horse strategy?"

Eric nods, "If we do it correctly, the clone will lead us right back to her puppet master."

"There's just one problem," Jolie says acidly, "How are we going to find the damn thing again? It's not gonna take the bait for another trap, Eric."

Major Gardner nods, "I'll run a fresh round of telemetry scans. Now that the Omega Gundam has sortied a half dozen times, our tracking devices can probably triangulate its approximate point of origin."

"Guess we shouldn't really worry about it," Jolie shrugs, "I have a feeling that it'll come to us before long."

* * *

Several hours later, after the meeting has adjourned, Jolie and Christian study schematics of the Omega Gundam provided to them by Dr. Camille Vidan. The two Special Forces pilots pore over each detail of the rogue mecha's internal layout. Smoke drifts lazily from the ends of the lit buttes of their cigarettes, and the equally languid expressions belie their focus. The object of their focus: accessible external points of the Omega Gundam.

Jolie extracts the half-smoked cigarette from between her lips and blows out a column of smoke, pointing at the holographic image before them, "There…on its left hip…a storage nacelle for emergency supplies…just large enough to fit one of us in."

Christian nods, "Two of us, maybe…if you don't mind getting cozy."

Jolie grins, inhaling from her cigarette again before replying, "Not that you wouldn't be yummy to cozy up with…but I've got other plans for you."

Christian sighs, "I take over the PSI-Gundam while you get aboard the Omega Gundam, right?"

Jolie replies, "Someone has to keep it spaceborne…can't trust an operation this delicate to the autopilot…or just any pilot. I need my backup to be the very best."

Christian says, "Hah. Flatterer. OK, I'll follow orders, but I'm telling you in advance: if you get into trouble out there, I'm coming right in after you, one way or another."

"I'm counting on it," Jolie answers with a wry grin, "Faith is, after all, a two-way street. I'm just gonna have to have faith that your judgment is at least as good as mine."

"Having faith in people is one thing," Christian says, "but I'm wondering: how much faith do we have in our machines?"

Jolie turns her eyes to Christian, "You've noticed something wrong too, eh?"

Christian nods, "Control response was a bit out of synch on the Centurion Gundam during the last sortie. It wasn't fatal, obviously, but it could have been. I already talked to Captain Duran-Pearce of the maintenance corps, and she and her crew are doing what they can, but the real problem is in the quality of the components they're getting from the supply corps. "

Jolie exhales another long column of tobacco smoke, "The quality of workmanship on the Federal Forces' mobile suits has declined steadily since the end of the Phobos War. A big part of it is that the Federation isn't the great world power it was years ago and doesn't have military budget that a major power would. Another reason is that for the past five years, the Federal Forces have been supplied primarily by the Buch Concern."

Christian's eyes widen, "Buch Concern? That's…"

"Meitzer Ronah's conglomerate," Jolie affirms, "and he's the Defense Minister of the Shambala Republic."

Christian sighs, "So much for trust, eh?"

"Yeah," Jolie replies, "Even our mecha might betray us at the worst time."

Christian brightens and offers, "The same might be true for the Omega Gundam."

Jolie shakes her head, "I test piloted that engine of death for more than a year. I can assure you that the Federation held nothing back in its design and construction, and that was one contract that the High Command did _not _offer to the Buch Concern. Anaheim Enterprises got the exclusive rights not only for its development and construction, but also its maintenance…unlike our…older models, the White Phoenix and the Centurion, which started switching to the cheaper grade maintenance materials about two years ago, just as the Omega Gundam neared completion. WPG and CG should have been phased out by now, Christian. What's kept them in service this long are all the delays that Project: Omega has run into…"

"…the latest being it getting stolen from right under the Federation's nose," Christian says.

Jolie butts out her cigarette and switches off the holographic projector, "We've done everything we can here. Let's suit up: if WPG and CG aren't working right, we'd better find out where before taking them into combat against the OG again."

* * *

An hour later, the White Phoenix Gundam and the Centurion Gundam PSI-Gundam are in flight, side by side, outside the perimeter of the Side 7 Zone.

"Initiate docking sequence," Major Jolie Minh-Miguel commands.

"Roger, docking sequence is go," Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray reports.

"Synchronize flight speed and approach vector," Jolie continues.

"Major," Christian interjects, "we're clocking in a flight speed of Mach 2; optimal docking speed is under 300 knots."

"You're right," Jolie says, "But under combat conditions, we might not be able to dock at such a low flight speed. We need to know what our limits are."

"Roger that, ma'am," Christian returns, "Flight speed synchronized at Mach 2.5."

"Five seconds to docking," Jolie breathes.

The White Phoenix Gundam and the Centurion Gundam wend around each other at speeds that would likely have torn them apart had the two mobile suits' pilots attempted similar maneuvers in Earth's gravitational field and atmosphere. As it is, both pilots struggle to keep their MS aligned for docking.

Interface nodules connect with corresponding nacelles as components fold and interlock, converting the two mobile suits into a single unit…the PSI-Gundam, with breathtaking speed and impact.

"Yeah!" Christian enthuses, "Now that's how we dance!"

"Just like Saturday nights at the club," Jolie adds, "Give me full power, Chief."

"We've got thruster output at 100%, ma'am," Christian reports from the mecha engineer's station, "PSI-Gundam forward velocity at Mach 3."

The PSI-Gundam begins to accelerate…Mach 3…Mach 3.5…Mach 4…Mach 5…Mach 6.

"Major," Christian says, "We're approaching an automated perimeter defense satellite. KS-11 type from the One Year War era. Still armed and operational. It's tracking us. We'll come into range of its beam cannon in sixteen seconds."

Jolie says nothing, keeping the PSI-Gundam bearing down on the defense satellite.

"Ma'am," Christian says tentatively.

"Initiate undocking sequence," Jolie commands.

"Roger, ma'am," Christian replies.

"Maintain course and speed," Jolie adds.

Christian gulps, "Roger, ma'am."

The cannon of the defense satellite glow red in the distance.

"Undock!" Jolie orders.

Jolie and Christian finger the docking control mechanism.

The interface modules fail to disengage.

The dual charged particle beams rush forth from the defense satellite.

Jolie pulls back the control yoke of the PSI-Gundam, sending the MS on a different vector, but not before the twin beams score a glancing strike on the MS, knocking out its left thruster and sending it on an uncontrolled spin.

"Give me a restart on the left engine!" Jolie orders.

"Trying to, ma'am," Christian answers, "But it's no go!"

Jolie struggles to hold the control yoke steady, but the PSI-Gundam continues spinning out of control.

"Jolie!" Christian says, his voice full of panic, "We're approaching a civilian transport shuttle! We're going to hit it if we don't regain control!"

"Restart that left thruster!" Jolie orders again.

Desperately, Christian attempts to restart Thruster-1, the left thruster, again.

The thruster flickers to life…fitfully, seemingly coming to full power…then seemingly to die again, and finally sustaining a burn.

The PSI-Gundam, however, continues to hurtle towards the civilian transport…Anaheim Aerospacelines Flight # 22, which carries over 500 passengers.

"Impact in sixteen seconds!" Christian shouts, "Jolie…!"

Jolie does not answer, fingering the docking mechanism control again.

The docking interface modules respond, separating the White Phoenix Gundam and the Centurion Gundam and sending them hurtling in different directions, away from the transport shuttle.

Jolie reduces forward thruster output and engages retro thrusters, gradually bringing the White Phoenix Gundam to control. Nearby, Christian similarly regains control over the Centurion Gundam.

Bathed in his own perspiration, Christian gasps, "T-that…w-we…"

Jolie, her voice steady, but angry, says, "Let's get these MS back to Garrison Noah…have Molly and her crew look at them and see what they can do."

At greatly restrained speed, the White Phoenix Gundam and the Centurion Gundam return to Garrison Noah.

* * *

Several hours later, Captain Molly Duran-Pearce and her maintenance crew have begun their investigation into the PSI-Gundam's docking system and thruster control malfunctions.

Unable to do anything further (except for filing post-training mission reports), Jolie and Christian return to the condo in Green Oasis City for some downtime.

At 01:44, Christian awakens for the seventh time since bunking down at 22:00. The near fatal training exercise has left him too wired to sleep; though it was merely training, the sortie was much more nerve-racking than actual combat. He doesn't remember feeling so rattled even after the battles against the Omega Gundam.

Giving up on attempts to get back to sleep, Christian rises and walks over to the window of his room. He looks out onto late night traffic of Green Oasis City on the streets below.

Christian senses that Jolie is also awake, and steps out into the den area of the condo.

He finds her standing, clad in a white cotton bathrobe, near the mantel of the cold, darkened fireplace, inhaling deeply from a cigarette as she studies one of the framed photographs mounted on the mantel…the one of her together with Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz, now Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi of the Shambala Republic. Standing on the mantel near the framed photo of Jolie and Athena is a half-empty glass of burgundy wine.

"You can't sleep either, hmmm?" Jolie says without turning around.

"Something's bothering you," Christian says, by way of reply.

Jolie fingers the photograph of herself and Athena, an image seemingly taken from another lifetime, "I haven't been able to sleep well for years. It's the curse of being a Newtype: you're so attuned to everything that sometimes, it's impossible to tune the world out so that you can sleep."

Christian smiles, "That might very well be true, but that's not what's keeping you up tonight. It's something about Minerva Zabi, isn't it?"

Jolie takes another puff from her cigarette before answering, "She's behind the clone."

"How do you know that?" Christian asks.

"She has both the motive and resources to pull something like this off," Jolie says, anger in her voice, "Moreover…it's the kind of thing she would do. I know her all too well."

Jolie closes her eyes, and memories flood back into her consciousness…

* * *

_December, U.C. 0098_

_2Lt. Jolie Minh bursts into Captain Athena Ibaz's temporary office in the former Zum Palace at Side 3._

"_Hey, 'Thena!" Jolie says excitedly, "We've got near riot conditions on the streets! Somehow, we lost ANOTHER food and medicine shipment from Side 6! The folks at Riah are sending the stuff, but it's just not getting through! You think it might be Zeon or ISRLA operatives trying to sabotage us?"_

"_No," Athena replies, wiping her fine, feminine fingers with a handkerchief, "The ISRLA and Zeon are enemies of the Federation, but they wouldn't starve their own people like that. It's Major Cromwell's thugs."_

"_Major Cromwell?" Jolie says, "The officer the Federation put in charge of the Side 3 garrison? Why the hell would he do that?"_

"_To solidify his control over Side 3," Athena says, "By controlling access to basic supplies, he can keep the population of Side 3 under his control so much more effectively. The people here depend on him for food, medicine, clothing, and other basic needs. The Major sees himself as a medieval lord and the people of Side 3, his serfs. He's treated Side 3 as his personal fiefdom since he was given administrative command here three years ago."_

"_We've got to tell the High Command about this, then!" Jolie says._

"_Jolie," Athena says, patting her charge on the shoulder, "That won't accomplish anything. Cromwell wouldn't have gotten away with this unless he had the tacit approval of certain elements of the High Command staff."_

"_General Blackhead?" Jolie ventures, her expression growing angry._

_Athena nods._

"_Those rats!" Jolie rages, "Then what are we gonna do about it?"_

"_General Noah ordered us to undermine the ISRLA insurgency at Side 3 by establishing better relations with the people of Side 3," Athena replies, "Major Cromwell and his forces are standing in the way of our carrying out our orders. If he isn't going to help us, then he needs to step aside…or be moved aside."_

_Jolie's eyes widen, "Then you mean…?"_

_Athena finishes coldly, "You understand our protocol on the treatment of traitors, Lieutenant: flatten them."_

_Sixteen hours later, a supply ship from Side 6 bearing food and medical supplies enters the Side 3 Zone. The ship is soon accosted by a squad of GM-IVs from Major Cromwell's forces._

"_This is perimeter patrol commander to supply shuttle," Major Cromwell says through the communications net, "We'll escort you to Side 3 from here."_

"_Negative, perimeter patrol," comes the reply from the supply craft, "We're here to deliver supplies to the citizens of Side 3, not to you Federal Forces pigs."_

"_You don't seem to understand, my friend," Major Cromwell says, his voice full of menace, "Those supplies you're carrying are now the property of the Earth Federation, and we'll do with them as we see fit. Resisting the orders of a Federal Forces officer has its consequences…"_

_The GM-IVs level their beam rifles at the shuttlecraft._

_Before they can open fire, however, the GM-IVs are immolated by multiple beam rifle strikes coming from the direction of Side 3. The horrible carnage lasts fewer than ten seconds, but when it is over, nothing is left of Major Cromwell's GM-IV squadron other than the Major's own GM-IVS officer's custom._

_2Lt. Jolie Minh points the beam rifle of her Centurion Gundam directly behind the nuclear fusion engine of Major Cromwell's GM-IVS._

_Captain Athena Ibaz's Cour de Leon drifts forward to come face to face with Cromwell's mobile suit, disarming it casually and pressing the Leon's beam rifle point blank against the cockpit hatch of the GM-IVS. _

"_Captain Ibaz," Cromwell bites out, "What is the meaning of this?"_

"_Treason," Athena says softly, thumbing the trigger of the Cour de Leon, shooting a beam of superheated particles through the cockpit of the GM-IVS, reducing Cromwell to atoms._

_The supply convoy continues unmolested to Side 3. For the first time in a long, long while, the people of Side 3 are able to eat like human beings, and have access to medicines for their aching wounds and debilitating illnesses._

_

* * *

_

"'Thena and I 'flattened' quite a few corrupt Federal Forces officers back in the day," Jolie tells Christian, as she continues to fondly finger the old framed photograph of herself and Athena, "We probably killed at least half as many Federal Forces' troops as we did ISRLA or Zeon."

"But…" Christian begins.

"'Thena could be absolutely ruthless," Jolie continues, "and I was her hammer. She used me to eliminate her enemies, and to bend those who resisted her to her will. I willingly did it, though, because I believed we were serving a greater ideal…and because I adored 'Thena. No matter how ruthless a bitch she could be, she was always kind to me. She was my sister…she cared about me, and I would do anything for her. Now that I don't serve 'Thena anymore, she's used the resources at her disposal as Deputy Prime Minister of the Shambala Republic to make another 'me'…another hammer she could use to flatten whoever stood in her way."

Christian doesn't know what to say. Like many young Federal Forces officers, he is well-versed in military lore. He has long known about Athena and Jolie's exploits with the Centurion Team nearly a decade earlier, but Jolie's remarks have given him an entirely new perspective of the relationship between Jolie and her former commanding officer.

Christian changes the subject to something of more direct concern to him, "Jolie…the Omega Gundam's pilot…you think she's exactly like you?"

Jolie smirks bitterly, "I'm no authority on clones. 'Thena gave me some files to read back in the day…about some of the cloned biosoldiers that the Titans and the Neo Zeon used during the Eighties…Four Murusame, Rosamia Baudam, and the Ple Twins. Physically, she's probably identical to me, but she hasn't had my experiences. That's the one advantage I have over her."

Christian mulls that point over.

Jolie catches Christian's pensive look and offers him a grin, and something else…

Jolie removes one of a pair of crucifixes from around her neck, and places it around Christian's.

"This used to belong to Jonah," Jolie tells Christian, "He doesn't need it anymore; you do."

"Thank you, ma'am," Christian says, blushing.

"The way I think of you is probably the way 'Thena used to think of me," Jolie says, "A pain in the ass sometimes, but mostly like a sibling."

Christian says nothing; that's not exactly what he wanted to hear from Jolie.

"I just hope…," Jolie says, "You and I don't end up turning on each other too someday."

A citywide raid siren blares, and emergency lights begin flashing within the Green Oasis Colony.

"Space raid warning!" a voice announces over colony-wide PA, "All civilians to shelters! All military personnel report for combat duty immediately!"

* * *

Jolie and Christian arrive at the MS deck of Garrison Noah, clad in their normalsuits, helmets in the crooks of their arms.

Captain Molly Duran-Pearce, chief maintenance officer, greets them and informs them, "We've replaced the defective components on the WPG and the CG! But…"

"I understand," Jolie says as she settles into the cockpit seat of the White Phoenix Gundam and dons her helmet, bringing the MS's combat systems online, "You did the best you could with what you had. We'll be careful out there, Molly. Don't worry."

"Good luck, Major," Molly salutes.

The Centurion Team's mobile suits tear forth from Garrison Noah.

* * *

Col. Christina McKenzie's attractive visage appears on the communications monitor in the White Phoenix Gundam's cockpit.

Jolie says, "Colonel…what's buzzing Side 7? I don't see an enemy fleet out there, so I'm guessing it's our favorite stolen piece of Federation military hardware come back to haunt us again?"

Col. McKenzie grins, "Precisely."

"I knew it," Jolie says, "All right then. I'm going to put our plan into motion."

"Be careful, Jolie," Col. McKenzie admonishes.

"Centurion Leader out," Jolie replies.

* * *

Jolie brings the White Phoenix Gundam to an absolute standstill in space…a graceful ivory bird, drifting on the cosmic winds…

"Come on," Jolie says to an invisible listener, "I'm tired of waiting."

A powerful stream of energy lances forth from behind the White Phoenix Gundam, almost immolating it but for a rapid dodge that perhaps only Jolie is quick enough o successfully pull off.

_Almost lost it that time_, Jolie reflects, _Thruster response was a nanosecond behind_.

Jolie doesn't dwell on it. She doesn't have the time. The Omega Gundam is on her.

The Omega Gundam has approximately 1.5 times the size and mass of the White Phoenix Gundam, and is about on par with the PSI-Gundam. In terms of armor strength, armaments, maneuverability, and speed, it is superior to the White Phoenix and even the PSI-Gundam. Even the Federation's most heavily armed space warships cannot match the Omega Gundam's sheer firepower, and that's just considering the Omega Gundam's _standard _weaponry, discounting the hyperbeam and nuclear weaponry it can, thus far thankfully not been fitted with.

_It can't come to that_, Jolie realizes.

An eight-year combat veteran who has fought hundreds of battles and logged thousands of combat hours, Jolie knows that she is at a disadvantage in terms of firepower, so eschews a shootout against the Omega Gundam in favor of closing in for melee combat. Moreover, she needs to stay close to the Omega Gundam to pull off what she has in mind.

The White Phoenix Gundam becomes like the Omega Gundam's shadow, matching its maneuvers, in too close for the OG to use its guns without being caught in the blast of any consequent explosion.

The Omega Gundam draws its powerful hyper beam saber; the White Phoenix Gundam responds in kind, and the Centurion Team is witness to a fantastic beam saber duel by two supreme ace pilots. The feints, stabs, parries, and slashes surpass in speed and grace anything they can imagine, let alone duplicate.

The duel devolves into a stalemate, and the two Gundams are saber-locked.

"Chief Ray," Jolie commands, "T-minus twenty seconds to auto docking."

"Roger, ma'am," Christian responds, "Initiating auto docking sequence and synchronizing flight speed and approach azimuth."

Jolie breaks the saber lock with a slash that just misses decapitating the Omega Gundam, then opens the cockpit hatch of the White Phoenix Gundam, causing instant depressurization of the cockpit cabin. Jolie's slight weight would be immediately dragged out by the sudden vacuum if she were not wearing the safety harness of her cockpit seat.

Jolie now undoes the safety harness and extends a handheld magnetic clamp gun towards the Omega Gundam, which she has matched in both speed and flight path. She fires the magne-clamp gun, extending a forty-meter alloyed cable whose powerful magnetic head attaches to the armor of the Omega Gundam.

Jolie allows herself to be pulled into the void of space, activating the vernier thrusters on her normalsuit's rocket pods to provide stability.

The so-called "Ranba Ral Maneuver" was first known to be used by the eponymous One Year War-era Zeon ace pilot to enable him to continue battling the Earth Federation Forces' RX-78 Gundam after Captain Ral's own mobile suit, the MS-07 Gouf prototype, had already been destroyed by the Gundam. Although Captain Ral ultimately did not survive that battle, the maneuver nevertheless enabled him to board the Federal Forces' mobile carrier _White Base _and inflict casualties upon its crew before succumbing to an honorable warrior's demise himself.

Captain Ral, however, had used the maneuver on Earth's Taklamakan Desert. To date, nobody has attempted to duplicate the maneuver in the void of space.

Jolie begins reeling herself towards the Omega Gundam, being whipped about violently in a manner that would have already snapped the bones of most other people.

She reaches the armored shell of the Omega Gundam, magnetizing herself to the mobile suit's left hip armor with magnets built into forearms and shin-guards of her normalsuit.

Jolie removes a small tool from the built of her normalsuit and uses it to gain access to a storage nacelle. Prying the access plate open, Jolie empties the nacelle of its contents (mostly, survival gear) and scrunches into the tiny space, closing the access hatch behind her.

* * *

"Five seconds to docking," an automated voice from the White Phoenix Gundam's combat computer A.I. intones.

"Dock NOW!" Christian responds.

The White Phoenix Gundam and Centurion Gundam's systems interface into the PSI-Gundam, and Christian takes command…his first time piloting the PSI-Gundam solo.

Christian scarcely has the time to marvel at the power at his fingertips. He receives a coded signal from Jolie confirming that she has successfully boarded the Omega Gundam…and orders to keep the PSI-Gundam on the Omega Gundam's tail…at a discreet distance.

Captain Chieming Noah, from her Cour de Leon, issues the retreat order for all Centurion Team mobile suits other than the PSI-Gundam.

* * *

The PSI-Gundam pursues the Omega Gundam, dodging its fire and trading volleys with the black-armored Gundam. Christian is discreet with his shots…taking care to not endanger Jolie even as he puts up the pretense of counterattacking.

The pursuit continues at speeds surpassing Mach 3 for several long minutes, soon leaving the perimeter of the Side 7 Zone and entering space that falls within the control zone of the Shambala Republic.

The Omega Gundam fires a powerful volley from the beam cannon mounted in its wrist housing and nearly nails the PSI-Gundam straight through its center. Christian strains against the control yoke to regain control, and when he does, he notes the arrival of a large, unregistered transport craft.

It is a midsize cargo ship, thousands of which routinely ply the trade routes among the space colonies daily. This one, however, has a modified engine block for greater speed, and does not appear on the registry of spacecraft in the PSI-Gundam's database. A mystery ship.

The Omega Gundam streaks towards the ship, whose massive cargo bay door slides open to receive the mobile suit.

Christian sets the PSI-Gundam on autopilot and programs it to depart on a flight path back to Garrison Noah. He opens the cockpit hatch of the PSI-Gundam and, mimicking Jolie's earlier action, extends a magnetic clamp cable against the hull of the Omega Gundam.

Christian reels himself towards the ebony-armored Gundam. His eyes widen with fear and his heart pounds as he notices the cargo bay door beginning to slide shut…a good fourteen meters still separating him from the Omega Gundam.

Christian struggles to hoist himself up the cable, scrambling, fighting time, fighting death…

He has one second and perhaps five centimeters to spare in avoiding being cut in two by the cargo bay door.

Christian, slick with his own perspiration, pants deeply…_so close_.

Artificial gravity comes begins to permeate the large cargo bay, causing Christian, still attached to the Omega Gundam via the magne-clamp cable, to fall to the cold, metal deck with a light thud, knocking the breath out of him.

Christian rapidly scrambles to his feet, draws his sidearm, disentangles himself from the magne-clamp cable, and takes cover behind one of the Omega Gundam's massive legs.

The Omega Gundam's cockpit hatch opens, and a helmeted, normalsuited figure appears. The figure is distinctly feminine…petite and shapely…and eminently familiar.

The normalsuited figure swings herself down to deck level with the use of a magne-clamp cable. No sooner do her feet touch the deck than does Major Jolie Minh-Miguel emerge from her place of concealment, also swinging down lightly to deck level.

Jolie levels her sidearm to the back of the helmeted figure; Christian notes that Jolie and the mysterious figure are identical in size and figure.

"Don't move," Jolie commands, "Remove your helmet and turn around slowly…"

Lights fill the cargo bay, and Jolie finds herself surrounded by a dozen men clad in Shambala Republic Defense Guard normalsuits, their carbines trained on her.

Another, slightly taller, but equally willowy normalsuited figure approaches, sans helmet. Christian gasps in recognition of the beautiful, honey-blonde young woman whose burning green eyes are as intense as twin suns.

Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi of the Shambala Republic points her sidearm, a silver Walther minipistol, at Jolie.

Jolie swings her own, similar sidearm towards Minerva, her silk-smooth face a portrait of barely restrained anger, "It is you…"

"Major Minh-Miguel," Minerva says coldly, "Please allow me to introduce you to your replacement…Jo-M."

The mysterious pilot removes her helmet, shaking free her long, lustrous black hair.

Jolie's eyes widen as she stares, as if in a mirror, at the pilot of the Omega Gundam.

Jo-M levels her sidearm at Jolie, her finger tightening around the trigger…

Christian points his own sidearm towards Jo-M…then swings it indecisively between the Omega Gundam pilot and Jolie…


	7. Chapter 6: THE BLACK ARMADA

**EPISODE 6: THE BLACK ARMADA**

***Author's Note: The author would like to thank Mr. Eric Gardner for his assistance in writing this episode. **

_December, U.C. 0098 _

_Jolie hands a small, gift-wrapped box to Athena, "Merry Christmas, 'Thena."_

_"Thank you," Athena says, accepting the box, "Want me to open it now?"_

_"Yeah," Jolie enthuses with a sweet grin._

_Athena opens the box methodically and neatly, laying aside the wrapping paper. Within is a box that contains a gold pocketwatch with a chain._

_"It's beautiful," Athena smiles, "I'll cherish it, Jolie."_

_"I got that in Shanghai back when were on Earth," Jolie tells Athena, "Cost me a few hundred credits too."_

_"You know," Athena says with a mischievous grin, "gold pocketwatches are traditionally gifts for people who are about to retire from their careers. Are you trying to tell me something, Jo?"_

_Jolie, unaware of the tradition, blushes in embarrassment, "Well, um. No, that's not what I meant. I mean…"_

_Smiling at her friend's discomfort, Athena produces a somewhat bigger gift-wrapped box, "I have something for you as well."_

_"Cool!" Jolie says, accepting the box from Athena and ripping the wrapping to shreds._

_Jolie's eyes widen as she opens the box: it contains a high-caliber Walther hand pistol, similar to the sidearm that Athena always carries, but a newer, more advanced model._

_"Wow," Jolie says, picking up the small, but deadly silver handgun, "You know, only you would give someone a gun for a Christmas gift."_

_Athena smiles, "This Walther hand pistol has greater range and accuracy than your standard issue Federal Forces sidearm, and packs a stronger punch too. If it ever comes down to it, it'll give you an edge in a life or death battle."_

_"Thanks, 'Thena," Jolie says, twirling the gun on her finger before holstering it at her side._

_

* * *

_

Eight years later…

The gold pocketwatch hangs on a chain from her vest, having ticked away each second of those eight years, measuring out the things that have changed, and the things that have remained the same.

The small Walther pistol is steady in her hand, loaded with a full clip, held in the same small, delicate, feminine hand that first held it eight years ago, pointed at the one who gifted it…she who wears the gold watch on its chain.

Major Jolie Minh-Miguel, SNRI, Earth Federation Forces, lets out a barely audible whisper, "Why?"

Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi of the Shambala Republic, once Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz of SNRI, stares steadily at the familiar weapon pointed at her, and responds with a wry grin that bears not the slightest trace of fear, "You've already had your chance to know."

Minerva pulls out her own sidearm, a Walter hand pistol of similar make, and points it at Jolie.

Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray swings his own automatic sidearm towards Minerva, but before he can complete the arc of motion, he feels the sensation of something cold and metallic against his back, and hears the sound of yet another weapon being cocked for firing.

"Don't move," comes the voice of Shambala Intelligence Agency Director Hathaway Noah, "Give me your weapon."

Reluctantly, Christian surrenders his sidearm to Hathaway.

Jolie, too wrathfully focused on Minerva to acknowledge Christian's presence (or his peril), bites out at her onetime sister-at-arms, "I'm putting an end to this right now."

Minerva smiles at her former charge, stepping closer, defying the weapon in Jolie's extended arm, "You aren't firing that weapon. I know you, Jolie."

_Damn her, she's right…as always_, Jolie acknowledges silently.

Minerva extends her own weapon, held in her flesh-and-blood right hand, and pulls the trigger!

_Click! _

Jolie does not blink…does not move at all, staring coldly at Minerva.

Minerva reholsters her weapon. Her beautiful green eyes burn with liquid fire.

Minerva says gently, "You can still walk away from this if you want to, Jolie. Take your second-in-command and go back to Side 7. Resign your commission with the Earth Federation Forces and sit this one out. Go manage your nightclub…or dedicate your time to Jonah's memory."

"If I refuse…?" Jolie says, baring her teeth at Minerva.

Minerva says nothing, turns away, and signals her men to make their move…

"Down!" Jolie orders Christian.

The two young Newtypes hit the deck as it begins to vibrate.

_C'mon, Eric_, Jolie silently implores, _Just like we planned it…_

Major Eric Gardner's Strike Gundam blasts through the hull of the cargo ship with its VSBR (Variable Speed Beam Rifle).

"Grab on and climb in!" Eric's voice booms from his mobile suit's external amplifiers.

Jolie and Christian scramble towards the Strike Gundam, securing around their waists a pair of grappler cables that extend down to them from one of the Federation stealth MS's external nacelles.

A few of Minerva's personnel begin leveling shoulder-mounted anti-MS rocket launchers at the Strike Gundam. At this range, such weapons can inflict serious damage to MS if the shooters know where to aim, and Eric knows that his onetime colleague Minerva Zabi, the former Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz of SNRI, recruits only personnel who know precisely what to do with a good weapon.

Eric doesn't give them the chance…thumbing the trigger to unleash a torrent of gunfire from the Strike Gundam's head-mounted Vulcan cannon…more to chase away than to kill.

Hathaway instinctively throws himself in front of his wife, shielding her from harm that fortunately, does not come.

Jolie and Christian have embedded themselves within a storage nacelle of the Strike Gundam. No sooner do they do so than does Eric turn the Strike Gundam on its heel, throw the thrust throttle forward, and send the mobile suit vectoring away from the cargo cruiser.

Automatic sealant injection systems come to life to seal the breach in the ship's hull before further atmosphere can escape.

Minerva turns to her personnel and instructs them calmly, "I want them alive, especially Jolie Minh. You're in command, Jo-M."

"Yes, ma'am," Jo-M replies with a crisp salute as she sprints to the Omega Gundam.

Minerva's other personnel also climb into their various MS – not mainline Shambala Republic Defense Force MS, which could implicate the Deputy Prime Minister and the Republic, but assorted Jegans-A, B, D and J types, a Stark Jegan, a few Re-ZELs, Geara Dogas, Geara Zulus, a Delta Plus, and a Jesta…all acquired through means undefined.

* * *

Eric spots his pursuers through the aft view monitors of the Strike Gundam's linear seat cockpit.

Eric grins roguishly, "Motley crew they've got on us. Hang on tight, you two!"

Eric spins the Strike Gundam around, bringing its multiple weapons systems to bear on the incoming Jegans.

Eric's modifications to Strike's avionics and weapons systems had undergone tests against Jolie's White Phoenix Gundam at SNRI Base in recent weeks, and is more than capable of holding its own in straight combat against the toughest opponents – a lion garbed as a jackal.

The beams hit their targets, but the Jegans remain intact as Major Gardner targeted only their weapons, the senior Federation officer unwilling to kill unnecessarily.

More MS join the pursuit, making way for their lead unit, the Omega Gundam.

_Can't take her head on_, Eric realizes, _Just have to play around with her for a bit until help gets here! _

Two Re-ZELs streak overhead, attempting to cut off the Strike Gundam's escape route towards the Side 7 perimeter.

"These jokers aren't making things easy," Major Gardner mutters under his breath as he deploys his beam sabers to clip their weapons and wings.

The Geara Zulu units converge upon the Strike, their assault beam rifles belching forth hellfire, but Eric's Gundam dodges them deftly - striking back with salvos from the VSBRs.

Even as the Zulus go down, the Stark Jegan closes in from behind the Strike Gundam, but the Strike reacts quickly enough to dodge the strike, albeit barely.

Major Gardner directs the right arm of the Strike Gundam to reach out and seize the Jegan by the connector shaft that links its main body to the head/camera unit, and then fires the Gatling beam guns on the Strike Gundam's wrists to blind the opposing MS.

Eric knows, however, that the deadliest opponent is yet to strike.

The Omega Gundam rakes the Strike with a hail of cannon fire, causing the Strike's armor to spark, but Major Gardner's MS remains intact.

_She's just toying with me_, Eric realizes, _She's got enough firepower to blow the Strike away with a single shot, but she's playing games…maybe I can take advantage of that. _

Drenched in perspiration, Eric draws out the Strike's beam saber as the Omega Gundam does likewise.

The two Gundams lock blades.

"You may have Jolie's DNA," Eric snarls, "but you don't have her experience."

Be that as it may, raw ability and power might be sufficient to win the day. The Omega Gundam presses its beam blade dangerously close to the Strike's cockpit.

Major Gardner is about to concede that perhaps the clone has his number when four Zeta-class MS(the Zeta Prompt, the Zeta Plutonius, the Zeta Plus A4, and the Zeta Plus-S) interrupt the fight just long enough for the Strike to push the OG away and escape.

The voice of Col. Christina McKenzie, Director of SNRI, issues forth from the Zeta Prompt, "Zeta Prompt to Strike Gundam: Major Gardner…are you, Major Minh-Miguel, and Chief Ray all right?"

"Roger, ma'am," Eric replies, "And there's our wayward cub right there."

"Cub's got muscles," Christina observes.

"I've…whoa…noticed!" Eric answers, narrowly dodging another strike.

Chieming's voice comes through Eric's receivers, a sound as sweet as nectar to his ears, "Was getting worried about you, flyboy. Knew you couldn't stay out of trouble without me."

Eric grins, "Then lay down some cover while I get my passengers back to the hotel, Babe!"

"Roger," Chieming replies.

The Omega Gundam swats at its enemies with its beam saber, keeping them at bay with its powerful beam cannon.

_Zeta Gundam types_, Jo-M notes aloofly, _Unremarkable opposition. _

Jo-M targets them for destruction, tracing them with her thoughts…engaging them for instantaneous, fiery obliteration.

Her finger tenses upon the trigger.

"Bring it home, Jo," Minerva Zabi's voice comes through Jo-M's helmet receivers, "Let them go. They aren't important. We've got other priorities."

"Yes, ma'am," Jo-M replies reluctantly, converting the Omega Gundam to mobile armor configuration and darting away.

* * *

Within minutes, Jo-M docks the Omega Gundam at the hangar.

Jo-M disembarks, floats to the deck, and approaches Minerva with her head hung low. "I'm sorry, ma'am; I failed to capture Jolie Minh."

Minerva pats Jo-M on the shoulder, "Your predecessor and namesake is the most dangerous woman in the world…and she has formidable allies. Overcoming her will be a team effort. Secure the Omega Gundam and return to your quarters. I'll have another mission for you…soon."

"Yes, ma'am," Jo-M salutes, and turns immediately to comply with Minerva's orders.

_So much like Jolie_, Minerva reflects, _and yet, so different._

Hathaway embraces Minerva from behind, kissing her tenderly on the neck, placing his hands along the sides of her torso.

Minerva seems momentarily faint, and Hathaway steadies her with a protective, loving embrace.

"You OK?" Hathaway asks, concern evident in the gentle tone of his voice.

Minerva recovers her composure, but she appears pale and feels slightly nauseous.

"I'm all right," Minerva finally says through shallow breaths, "It's nothing, Hathaway. I'm fine."

"You should leave this to Jo-M and me," Hathaway says, "There's no reason that you need to be out here taking risks. Not when…"

"The situation is too critical and too tenuous to leave anything to chance," Minerva says, "I trust you…and I trust Jo. But all of our efforts are necessary to ensure our success. Jolie is a dangerous adversary, and she's much savvier than she was when she and I were partners. She had the foresight to see that we would try to trap her, so she'd already arranged to have Eric Gardner bail her out."

Hathaway nods in agreement, "Gardner's a huge thorn in our side. In spite of our best efforts to throw him off our trail, he's getting closer and closer. He'll connect the dots sooner or later."

"Jolie's people are not to be underestimated," Minerva observes, habitually placing her flesh hand on her abdomen, "…like Eric Gardner, and that boy we saw with her. He's a Newtype, Hathaway…a very powerful one. He could present significant problems…or be of significant help to us."

* * *

Eric breathes a sigh of relief knowing that they've made it out alive as he removes his helmet and disembarks from the Strike Gundam at the hangar deck of Garrison Noah.

Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray, extracting himself from the Strike Gundam's storage nacelle, exchanges a quick fist-bump with Eric.

"Thanks for the rescue, E.," the young Newtype says, "Pretty impressed with those moves you used out there. That was some fancy hotdogging you did out there, man."

"It's called a 'Fokker's Feint,'" Eric says, "Ever saw the movie _Macross: Do You Remember Love_? Classic film. Inspired my moves…especially that part where that green-haired alien chick goes psycho on those other alien mecha."

"You mean that movie with the annoying Chinese girl pop singer?" Christian says acidly.

"The annoying Chinese girl pop singer whom your commanding officer is a dead ringer for," Eric returns mischievously.

Jolie emerges from the storage nacelle, hearing Eric's lighthearted remark, but not responding to it. Her still youthful, beautiful face is locked in a dark scowl.

Christian notes the expression and begins following Jolie as she begins stalking away silently.

"Jo…" Christian begins.

Eric's strong hand settles on Christian's shoulder, "Christian…not now. I've seen Jolie in these moods before. Believe me, you don't want to bother her."

Setting aside Eric's sage advice, Christian pursues Jolie, "Jolie! Ma'am! Hey!"

Jolie silently enters the women pilot's locker, ignoring Christian completely.

_Wonder if she's mad at me…_Christian muses unhappily.

* * *

Jolie runs a cold shower over her body, rinsing away the sweat and grime of combat, but unable to rinse away the anger that seethes within her.

_Athena…I knew…I've always known that someday, somehow, you'd stab all of us in the back._

_

* * *

_

Jolie's mood has not improved much several hours later when she and Christian are attempting to kick back at the White Phoenix Nightclub. Jolie, silent and brooding, works her way through a cigarette and a Vodka Seven highball, unresponsive to Christian's earnest attempts to introduce a little levity.

"…those moves that Major Gardner pulled off were really slick," Christian chimes enthusiastically, "Even you probably couldn't have done them any bet…"

"Christian, please…just shut up," Jolie says covering her eyes and shaking her head.

Christian falls silent.

Jolie catches the youth's unhappy expression and her own expression softens. She touches his hand gently, "I'm sorry, Christian. I didn't mean that. I'm just shaken up by…"

"I understand," Christian says, "Athena Ibaz is your best friend. I'd feel the same way in your position."

Christian's hand tightens around Jolie's; this time, she does not release herself from his grip.

The moment is interrupted by a sudden, startled scream.

"Get your hands off me!"

The voice is that of Angeline, one of the club employees whose responsibilities include serving and entertaining guests.

Jolie and Christian see that Angeline is being accosted by three young Federal Forces officers…all young men perhaps a year or two older than Christian. The ringleader is a tall blonde with an arrogant smirk that seems fixed upon his handsome Nordic features. His two companions, a redhead and a dark-haired youth, are thuggish louts of indistinct ethnicity.

Jolie and Christian vacate their seats and step confidently into the fray.

"What's the problem?" Jolie demands.

"Major Minh," Angeline says to her employer, holding down the hem of her miniskirt, "He put his hand up my skirt."

Angeline indicates the dark-haired youth…an intimidating, muscular figure who, despite his youth, gives the impression of being a veteran of many a street or alley fight.

Jolie stares him down, saying softly, "I like for my customers to have a good time, but I also expect them to respect the people on my staff. If you can't abide by that, then I want you out of here."

"Relax," the dark-haired youth, whose breast pocket uniform tag indicates him as, "2Lt. C. Toru," "If you want me leave your employees alone, I will…besides…you're a hotter piece of ass than she'd ever be."

2Lt. Toru approaches Jolie with a lustful gleam in his eye.

Christian, growling like an enraged animal, tackles Toru to the ground and beats on him mercilessly, determined to keep striking until something breaks.

Jolie moves forward to pull Christian off the larger man before the youth kills him, but she spots the redhead…2Lt. G. Durand, according to his pocket tag, extracting a long, wicked-looking knife from the inner pocket of his uniform jacket and lifting his arm to plunge the blade into Christian's back.

Jolie slaps the knife out of Durand's hand, catching it in her own and rapidly carving an "X" on the front of his neck. She kicks him down and places the heel of her boot upon the side of his head while drawing her sidearm to shoot out a pistol drawn by the hand of the tall, handsome blonde, whose pocket tag indicates him as "1Lt. G. Rush."

At the same moment, Christian, his rage spent, pulls 2Lt. Toru to his feet; the larger man's face is a mess of blood and broken teeth.

"Get out," Jolie says darkly, "Don't let me ever see you here again."

Christian releases Toru, and Jolie allows Durand to rise to his feet. They prepare to charge at Jolie and Christian again, but the unscathed 1Lt. Rush restrains them.

"That's enough," Rush says authoritatively, with a tone of command that belies his youth, "All right, we go. You SNRI punks think of yourselves as the elite of the Earth Federation Forces, but soon you'll realize that you're nothing."

The trio leaves.

"You all right?" Jolie asks Angeline.

"I'm OK," Angeline replies, "Thanks, Jolie."

"You can have the rest of the night off if you want," Jolie says, "Those bastards might still be out there, though, so you'd better let Christian and me escort you home."

Angeline nods and heads for the employees' room.

Jolie and Christian retake their seats; another club employee brings them fresh drinks.

Jolie lights a fresh cigarette, inhales deeply from it, and exhales before asking Christian, "Did you catch their unit number?"

Christian replies, "66th Autonomous Corps…never heard of them."

"Me neither," Jolie concedes, "We'd better ask Major Gardner to look into this."

"We also need to figure out what we're gonna do about the Omega Gundam," Christian says, "It came damn close to nailing all of us today."

"Jo-M is just a puppet," Jolie says, "An extremely dangerous and powerful puppet, but a puppet nonetheless. The real threat is her puppet master...Athe…Minerva Zabi."

"Then we go after the puppet master," Christian says resolutely, "Do you…think you can?"

"I don't know," Jolie says, fear in her voice.

_I don't know if I can kill my…sister…_

_

* * *

_

Two hours later, Christian throws himself onto his spacious bed at Jolie's luxurious penthouse in the most upscale section of Green Oasis City.

It's been a long day…a day in which Christian has taken part in battles both large and small in scale…another day during which he nearly died. Sleep should come easily, but his mind won't stop spinning.

As has become increasingly common during the past several weeks, Christian finds his mind filling with images of Jolie…or is it Jo-M? Christian is no longer certain. Since encountering Jo-M earlier during the day, he's has experienced an odd, unsettling muddling between Jolie and Jo-M's identities. Genetically, physically – by all appearances discernible through his eyes, they are identical, but their minds…their souls…

In Jolie, Christian has sensed a resistance to his desire to engage her…he reaches out to her, but finds his path obstructed by Jolie's memories…by her fears…her slain family…the lost unborn child that Jolie had told Christian about…and most of all, her late, but still beloved husband.

Christian has begun to reluctantly acknowledge that Jolie will never open certain barriers to him…the barriers of her past…of her fear to feel any closer to Christian than she does, lest she lose him the way she lost so many others she has loved.

Christian wishes that he could accept that as good enough…as proof that Jolie cares about him…but he knows that he cannot.

But Jo-M…Christian reached into her mind and had sensed…an endless openness. Not emptiness, but openness…a desire to receive, and a desire to give. Jo-M is Jolie, Christian senses, a Jolie unburdened by a past shaded by ghosts…

Christian's eyes shut…his mind begins to unwind…_Jolie…Jolie…Jo-M._

_

* * *

_

In a concealed location, Jo-M sits crosslegged, as naked as she was the day she emerged from the cloning capsule. She meditates…clearing her mind…reaching out into the cosmos…its eternal expanse within her reach.

In that eternity…one mind…one soul, distracts her from all else.

In her consciousness forms the image of a youthful, handsome face…unseen before today, but somehow, familiar…as if she had always known him…as if she had always expected to know him.

But who is he, and what are these inexplicable feelings she has experienced as a result of encountering him.

A name emerges…a name she has never heard, but somehow knows…

_Christian…Christian…Ray…_

_

* * *

_

Christian bolts awake…confused images blurring his thoughts….he glances at the clock…how much time has passed? Hours? Minutes? Millenia?

Christian rises from his bed, realizing that he is still clad in his uniform. He steps out of his room.

The den and kitchen area of the apartment suite is dark and silent, as is Jolie's bedroom, but Christian notices that the door to her room is open.

Christian pokes his head through the door; Jolie's bed is empty, apparently unslept in.

_Where the hell did she go this time of night?_

_

* * *

_

04:09, Side 7 time…

The White Phoenix Nightclub closed its doors for the night/early morning at 03:30. Lights are out, and staff members have gone home. Janitorial crews would not arrive for cleaning duties until 09:00.

Three figures clad in dark clothing, their faces obscured by black balaclavas (ski masks) and their hands protected by black leather gloves, creep stealthily along the alleyway behind the club.

Upon the club's walls, they affix shaped plastic charges…compact, but capable of powerful incendiary and concussive effect.

They never get the chance to light the ignition fuses before a hail of automatic weapons fire rains down around them from the roof of the nightclub.

The men extract automatic weapons of their own and return fire. Lacking the high ground, however, they are at a distinct disadvantage, and back away into the darkness.

The gunfire falls silent, and Major Jolie Minh-Miguel cautiously leaps down, catlike, into the alley, smoking assault rifle in hand.

Jolie steps over to one of the plastic charges on the wall and removes it, studying it carefully by the faint light of the White Phoenix Nightclub's neon sign.

Jolie hears footsteps rushing towards her and raises the assault rifle.

Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray raises both hands, his youthful face the portrait of terror, "Hey! Don't shoot! It's me!"

"Th' hell you doing here?" Jolie demands as she examines the plastic explosive in her hand.

"I could ask you the same thing," Christian replies.

"I had a weird feeling," Jolie says by way of explanation, "So I came back…someone tried to blow up the club."

"Who?" Christian asks.

Jolie hands him the plastic explosive.

"Federation ordnance," Jolie says, "Not standard issue stuff. This is the stuff we use…only better quality than I've seen in a few years. This one's got a birthdate of less than a month, though."

"What's it all mean?" Christian wonders, handing the explosive back to Jolie.

Jolie takes the explosive and fingers it gingerly, "That's what we'll have Christina and Eric help us figure out tomorrow…today, I mean."

* * *

Not six hours later, Col. McKenzie, Major Gardner, Major Minh-Miguel, and Chief Warrant Officer Ray meet in a private conference room at Garrison Noah.

Col. McKenzie studies the shaped plastic charge in her hand gravely, finally remarking, "No doubt about it…it's genuine Federal Forces ordnance issue."

"But," Major Gardner interjects, handing a similar plastic charge to Col. McKenzie, "the quality of its materials and workmanship are far better than this unit right here…taken from our own SNRI stockpile."

Christina compares the two explosives carefully…prying them open with a small tool brought for the purpose. Sure enough, although the two explosives are superficially identical, a closer examination confirms Eric's observation: the unit that Jolie recovered from the alleyway behind the White Phoenix Nightclub is notably superior in both materials and workmanship.

"We've been getting dud materials from the contracted suppliers for more than two years now," Christina says, "but apparently, someone out there is still supplying the good stuff…just not to SNRI."

"Then to who?" Eric muses aloud.

"The 66th Autonomous Corps," Jolie interjects, "Who the hell are they, Christina? Why haven't we ever heard of these guys?"

"66th Autonomous Corps was organized by General Blackhead," Christina explains, "…over General Noah's objections. They're a ready-reaction force that Blackhead pushed for after he returned to active service after recovering from his injuries…something the Federation could use to immediately quickly counter and suppress a surprise attack against us like the one Miguel launched against us back in U.C. 0100. Officially, the 66th doesn't exist…which is why you haven't heard of them. Their mission is…let's say, different from SNRI's."

"'Different' my ass," Jolie remarks, "Just thugs in Federal Forces uniforms. Figures Blackhead is in charge of all this."

"Neither the President nor General Noah supported the formation of the 66th," Christina continues, "but the High Command gave General Blackhead the go-ahead after the Federal Forces nearly got wiped out in the last battle against the Zeon. But we heard very little about it after it got underway. We all thought the project just died on the vote of some budgetary committee in the Deliberative Assembly years ago."

"It evidently hasn't," Eric says, "And we don't have any idea how far its reach actually is."

"You're right," Christina agrees, "We don't. For that reason: Eric…Jolie…Christian…I want you to monitor General Blackhead and his command staff very carefully. See what they're up to, but don't intervene. We don't want them to know we're on to them. If we get caught, we're all liable to be implicated for treason."

* * *

On the way to the mobile suit deck, a deeply disturbed Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray remarks to Jolie, "This corrupt mess is the Federation we're giving our loyal to and putting our lives on the line for?"

"Yeah," is Jolie's only reply, "Some things really never change."

* * *

For the next ten days, SNRI personnel very discreetly scrutinize the communications and activities of General Manron Blackhead of the Earth Federation Space Armada and his command staff…making note of anything odd or out of place. The first seven days yield very little in the way of actionable data, but on the eighth day, word is received of an off-record rendezvous between General Blackhead and unknown parties at the abandoned Industria Colony of Side 5.

Major Gardner, Major Minh-Miguel, and Chief Warrant Officer Ray are dispatched to shadow this clandestine rendezvous.

Mindful of Col. McKenzie's admonitions, the SNRI personnel have taken precautious to minimize the likelihood of their implicating SNRI should they lose their initial cover. In lieu of their Gundam mobile suits, Eric, Jolie, and Christian are piloting Hydrosuits and operating under the cover of an innocuous civilian colony maintenance repair agency – Gardnertech.

Eric, Jolie, and Christian discreetly park their Hydrosuits in an abandoned area, and then make their way through a series of ventilation shafts and service conduits. Were Industria a modern colony with fully functional facilities, there would surely be a surveillance system that would have detected them. Industria is in such a state of disrepair, however, that even a temporary surveillance system isn't worth the effort or resources necessary to set up and render operational.

"This place is a dump," Christian remarks, "Even more than Luna 2 was."

"I know," Jolie replies, "I grew up here. The place is still a shithole after all these years…"

"Shithole or not," Eric says, "This is where Blackhead is meeting whoever it is he's meeting. Any guesses on who that might be?"

"The Easter Bunny? Santa Claus? The Great Pumpkin?" Christian quips.

"Probably the Devil himself," Jolie finishes.

The trio reaches the end of the service conduits, where they discreetly peer through the metal grating.

Their throats go dry, and their mouths gape in disbelief at the sight before them.

Industria's crumbling old districts of abandoned factories and warehouses have been largely replaced by a fully armed military facility on a scale that at least rivals Garrison Noah. The area where Jolie lived when she was an adolescent remains standing at the northern terminus of the colony, but the central portion of Industria has been converted into a fully functional military hub. Dozens upon dozens of Earth Federation Forces space warships, and hundreds of mobile suits of both familiar and unfamiliar design stand ready for deployment. Weapons are stockpiled in massive warehouses.

Jolie, Christian, and Eric watch silently, breathlessly as a platoon of Earth Federation Forces troops, dressed in a black variant of the Earth Federation Forces uniform.

They see an Earth Federation Forces command staff executive shuttle landing at the makeshift spaceport. The space vehicle taxis to a halt. Momentarily, General Blackhead disembarks, heralded by his command staff. They are met by applause from the large platoon of black-garbed Federal Forces troops among them.

Christian nudges Jolie and directs her attention to three young officers standing in the front row of troops, cheering Blackhead's arrival. She recognizes them…Toru, Durand, and Rush.

The three SNRI officers scowl as another shuttle arrives, this one bearing the markings of the Buch Concern. The shuttle is escorted by a squadron of Crossbones Vanguard mobile suits.

The shuttle lands, and momentarily, Defense Minister Meitzer Ronah of the Shambala Republic disembarks, escorted by his aides and by his adjutant, Col. Carrrozzo Matthioli, leader of the Crossbones Vanguard.

Defense Minister Ronah extends his hand and a cold smile to General Blackhead, "My congratulations, General. The vision you've dedicated your efforts to for the past half-decade has yielded highly impressive results."

"Thanks to your support, Your Excellency," Blackhead says, returning an equally cold smile as he takes the other man's hand, "Together, we will establish a stronger, more secure world…a world that those weak women, Artasia Daikun, Minerva Zabi, and Mirai Noah, couldn't possibly realize."

"This Black Armada represents the rebirth of the Earth Federation Forces," Ronah says, inspecting the scores of mobile suits, combat craft, and warships…all of which were constructed by his Buch Concern, "Together with my Crossbones Vanguard, they cannot possibly fail."

"'The Black Armada,'" Blackhead muses, "Flattering name, but I'm hardly that kind of egotist, Minister Ronah. That was never more than an unofficial nickname. Today, however, it's time to properly christen this glorious body of warriors."

Blackhead takes to a podium arranged for him to address his troops…his Black Armada, "Gentlemen of the 66th Autonomous Corps. Today, we hide in the shadows no more. I now authorize you to reveal your true heritage.

Thousands of hands reach out to remove thousands of covering matches on the uniform jacket sleeves that cover thousands of arms. Covers are removed from the hulls of warships by the dozens, and from the fuselages of combat aircraft and the shells of mobile suits…all revealing a familiar black and red legend upon a yellow avian figure.

Jolie, Eric, and Christian gasp simultaneously as their eyes widen in horrific recognition.

_**TITANS.**_


	8. Chapter 7: BETRAYAL

**EPISODE 7: BETRAYAL**

_**Titans…**_

Major Jolie Minh-Miguel, Major Eric Gardner, and Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray clench their teeth in silent rage as they observe the marshalling of troops and war machines from their vantage point behind the metal grill of the ventilation shaft port.

"Titans," Major Gardner snarls with uncharacteristic fury, "God damn it, I thought we saw the last of them at the end of the Eighties! This is insane!"

Christian opens the safety on his sidearm and mutters, "What the hell are waiting for? Let's go!"

Christian moves towards the metal grill before being checked by the arm of his commanding officer, Major Jolie Minh-Miguel.

"Don't be stupid," Jolie rasps, "It's just the three of us against an entire army. I wouldn't like our chances even if we had our mobile suits, which we don't."

"Jolie's right," Eric says, his usual calmer demeanor returning, "Just judging from the size of the forces they have here, which might not even represent their full power, the Titans have at least three…possibly up to five times the number of troops as the regular Federal Forces and SNRI do."

"Not to mention state-of-the-art equipment," Jolie adds, "Check out those MS down there…haven't seen those designs before, but I can tell even from here that they can way outperform anything we've got aside from the Gundam units."

"Guess we now know why we've been getting bargain-basement quality equipment and supplies the past four years," Eric remarks darkly, "Blackhead has been funneling all the good stuff to his thug army here."

"Mom used to say that the Titans were worse than the Zeon," Christian chimes in, "They gassed an entire space colony back in the Eighties, didn't they?"

"The 30th Bunch Incident," Eric says, "I remember it all too well…and I remember what these Titans bastards put me through hell during the months they held me POW."

"We're going to need to get data on this," Jolie says, "Report back to General Noah."

"On it," Eric says, already working on the metal grill with a set of tools, "We'll go down there discreetly…hijack some Titans normalsuits, and record as much as we can."

The course of action being set, Eric, Jolie, and Christian discreetly drop down from the ventilation port onto the soil of the space colony turned hidden fortress.

* * *

Long minutes pass before the trio manages to scramble stealthily onto the grounds of the base, avoiding detection being paramount to their mission.

Major Gardner spots a trio of Titans soldiers, clad in normalsuits with helmets in the crooks of their arms, headed towards three mobile suits of unidentified design.

Gardner bursts into their view, groans painfully, and falls heavily to the ground.

The Titans troops approach Gardner's fallen form cautiously, their weapons at the ready.

While the three Titans are stooped over, Jolie and Christian drop down upon them from an overhanging work platform above and behind them. Jolie fells one of the Titans with a precise chop to the back of the neck, and Christian sends another to oblivion with a blow from an iron pipe to the top of the head.

Simultaneously, Eric rolls over and shoots the remaining Titan in the chest with a silenced tranquilizer dart; the sedative takes effect momentarily, the Titan falling over unconscious while attempting to draw his sidearm.

Eric begins removing the normalsuit from the Titan he felled, while Christian does the same to his victim.

Jolie looks dubiously at the Titan that she dropped.

"What's wrong?" Christian asks.

"None of these normalsuits fit me," Jolie observes.

Even as Christian and Eric hastily don their commandeered normalsuits, they realize that Jolie is right: she's much too small to fit convincingly into any of the three normalsuits.

"Never mind," Jolie says, heading towards the nearest mobile suit…something that bears little resemblance to the Hizacks and Marasais that the Titans favored during the Eighties…and even less the GMs and Jegans of the Earth Federation Forces. Rather, the machine bears some resemblance to the new experimental models the Crossbones Vanguard has been fielding.

Jolie turns to her companions as a crane lifts her to the MS's cockpit, saying, "I'll cover you from here."

Christian and Eric waste no time arguing, lowering the tinted visors on their helmets for anonymity.

* * *

Jolie boards the unfamiliar cockpit, seals the hatch, and studies the control systems layout. Buch Concern setup…different from the Anaheim Enterprises / Earth Federation Forces layout she's accustomed to from the Gundam mobile suits, but nothing that she can't figure out. Within a minute, Jolie has the MS's main fusion engine on standby, but eschews to activate any of the sensors/camera units for fear of giving away her presence in the MS.

Jolie sits tight, letting her PSI abilities do her tracking for her…reaching her mind out to her comrades.

* * *

_We haven't much time_, Christian and Eric simultaneously hear in their heads in Jolie's voice, _Gather as much intel as you can and let's get the hell out of here!_

With practiced nonchalance, Christian and Eric place surveillance devices on inconspicuous parts of their normalsuits, where the small instruments subtly blend into the normalsuits' standard accessories and support gear.

Christian and Eric stride purposefully around the grounds, appearing to be headed towards duty stations, not apparently observing anything along the way, though behind their darkened visors, their eyes absorb many details that leave them with sick feelings in the pit of their stomachs as they realize that the Titans have stockpiled many times more ordnance and weaponry than necessary to obliterate the remains of the regular Earth Federation Forces and the SNRI.

Christian and Eric continue on this course of action for several long minutes until finally, a pair of Titans security officers, who had seemingly bypassed them without interest, turns back towards them.

"Halt," the officer says with cold menace, "Where are you men going?"

Eric responds calmly, "Pre-launch procedural checklist."

"You men are supposed to be on standby," the officer says suspiciously, his partner already drawing a sidearm, "Lift your visors."

Christian slowly begins to comply, even as Eric subtly goes for his own concealed weapon.

The two Titans officers are cut down by Vulcan cannon fire from the mobile suit that Jolie occupied. She launches an attack against armaments, supplies, and personnel…primarily to distract the enemy from the vulnerable Christian and Eric.

Jolie creates quite a fireworks show and commotion, but momentarily, even her actions are overshadowed by some greater excitement bursting through the hull of the colony.

Jolie senses it…senses _her_…immediately.

_Jo-M…Omega Gundam!_

* * *

The mechanized monster tears through the ranks of Titans MS, warships, and maintenance facilities with the ferocity and fury of an onrushing ocean tide. A half dozen Titans MS pilots manage to scramble to their mobile suits and initiate a counterattack, but the Omega Gundam shrugs off their attacks and immolates them with powerful blasts of its myriad beam weaponry.

One of the Omega Gundam's beams finds its way to a moored Titans space battleship, causing hundreds of thousands of tons of armor to expand and balloon into as many pieces of superheated and accelerated shrapnel.

* * *

Christian and Eric magnetize their normalsuits to the external armor of Jolie's commandeered Titans MS, by no small miracle protected from the worst of the incoming concussive shockwave and attendant shrapnel, Jolie favoring angles to afford her comrades the maximum possible protection under the circumstances.

Ascertaining that Christian and Eric are safe, Jolie turns her attention to the Omega Gundam, now singly combating a dozen Titans MS. Jolie targets the "neck" joint that connects the OG's head unit to its torso, hoping that a good blast can disable the OG momentarily.

Jolie hesitates for a moment, her mind racing, _She's attacking the Titans…meaning that she's not in league with them, but it's clearly the Crossbones Vanguard that are allied with the Titans._

Jolie remembers Athena's warning to her when they met in Shambala City…about the schism going on within the Shambala Republic…perhaps…?

Jolie does not have another moment to ruminate upon the implications before she must turn her full attention to the Omega Gundam, which has halted its attack on the Titans' forces and has spun around to face Jolie's mobile suit.

* * *

In the cockpit of the OG, Jo-M senses her other self…her enemy.

_Jolie Minh…_

The thought of her tissue donor and progenitor causes the biosoldier to experience a sense of inexplicable malice…

Jo-M turns the weaponry of the Omega Gundam upon Jolie's mobile suit.

The biosoldier lines up the commandeered Titans MS in her targeting sites and her finger tenses on the trigger…and then she hesitates as she senses another presence.

_It's him…that boy from the last battle…Christian…Christian Ray!_

* * *

From his place on the hull of Jolie's appropriated MS, Christian senses Jo-M's thoughts reaching out to him.

_Jo-M?_

"Jolie, wait!" Christian calls out.

Distracted by Christian's sudden cry, Jolie's firing hand jerks at an awkward angle, causing her shot to go astray…hitting the Omega Gundam, but inflicting no discernible damage as the blast is absorbed by the OG's thick, reflective Gundarium armor.

The Omega Gundam prepares to retaliate with a barrage of its heavy weaponry when its pilot's attention is regained by the Titans mobile suits blasting away at its backside.

Jo-M lets out a ferocious growl and spins the Omega Gundam around, immolating her tormentors in a wash of beam fire.

Jolie decides to not take any more risks in combat against the Omega Gundam. Had she been piloting the White Phoenix Gundam, and were Christian and Eric's lives not also at risk, perhaps she might have chanced it, but under the circumstances…

Taking advantage of the confusion, Jolie blasts her MS out of Industria Colony, into the open space of the Side 5 Zone.

* * *

A squadron of Crossbones Vanguard Xen'an Sero mobile suits, led by Col. Carrozzo Matthioli, joins their Titans' allies as they surround the Omega Gundam like a pack of hungry wolves around an enraged bear.

Carrozzo and his men, among the best trained, deadliest mobile suit pilots in the cosmos, have already been humbled twice by the awesome power of the Omega Gundam and the lethal skill of its ace pilot. Carrozzo's warrior pride, and the spilt blood of his brothers-at-arms, demands that the Omega Gundam not best him a third time.

To that objective, Carrozzo has acquisitioned from the Buch Concern's inventories a newly developed line of corrosive incendiaries, unaffected by I-field defense systems and capable of eating away even Gundarium alloy.

The Omega Gundam, behemoth though it is, is a surprisingly nimble and quick mobile suit…especially under the guidance of an ace pilot such as Jo-M. Within the confines of the Titans' makeshift base in Industria Colony, however, maneuvering space is limited.

Moreover, Jo-M is curious to discover just how much punishment the Omega Gundam can take.

"Target objective locked on: range 200 meters, speed 0," the combat AI of Carrozzo's MS chimes in.

"All units commence firing," Carrozzo instructs.

The Omega Gundam makes only sundry efforts at defending itself, raising its arm shield to take the brunt of the impact, but allowing some of the incoming ordnance to shatter on its armored shell.

To Jo-M's surprise, there is no flame…and far less concussion than she had anticipated.

The Omega Gundam's AI, however, rapidly reports distress on the mobile suit's external shell…indicating the presence of a highly corrosive compound delivered by the warheads that was already eating through the surface of the OG's armor.

Undeterred, Jo-M overloads the magnetic field surrounding the OG…a strategy that Minerva Zabi had taught Jo-M could be useful in repelling chemical corrosive attacks, but at the risk of rupturing the seams of OG's armor and massively draining the MS's energy stores.

Sure enough, the OG's armor begins to groan and strain under the influence of the powerful magnetic forces emanating from the mecha's power core, but the corrosive eating away at its shell lifts off…and rockets back towards the Crossbones Vanguard mobile suits that launched it with devastating velocity and force.

The corrosive substance, its destructive properties compounded by the incendiary heat of friction and the concussive force born of sheer velocity, slams into the Xen'an Sero squadron, burning through their armor.

One stream of superheated corrosive bursts through the torso armor of Col. Carrozzo Matthioli's Xen'an Sero Special, sending burning corrosive through the visor of the Crossbone Vanguard leader's helmet, scorching his face.

Carrozzo screams in agony as his scalp and cheek are set aflame and washed in corrosive fluid that has eaten through steel…dozens of broken shards from the shattered glass of his helmet visor embedded into what remains of his face.

With supreme effort and in excruciating pain, Carrozzo wrenches his helmet off his head, even as emergency flame retardant chemicals drop from an overhead vent to put out the flames.

With cold-blooded efficiency, Jo-M directs the Omega Gundam towards the destruction of the remaining Xen'an Sero units…even as more Titans MS bear down around her mobile suit.

Jo-M notes the energy level of the OG falling rapidly…currently at 40%...a consequence of the magnetic overload maneuver, and the combat AI indicates that the external shell has been compromised to such a degree that continued combat is unadvisable.

Jo-M notes that the Titans have begun to mobilize their heavy warships…slow-moving, fat targets, but endowed enough firepower that she does not want to risk a confrontation with them with the Omega Gundam in its weakened condition. She launches a final barrage as a diversion, converts the OG to mobile armor configuration, and vectors out of the Industria Colony.

* * *

Aboard her commandeered Titans mobile suit, Jolie casually trap shoots the last of her pursuers…bringing her kill total for the day to a (by her standards) paltry seven enemy units downed.

"You guys hang tight," Jolie advises her two comrades, "The _Amuro Ray _will rendezvous with us as soon as we clear the Side 5 Zone Perimeter."

Hanging tight is about all that Christian and Eric can manage, as they pray to whatever deities and supreme powers who might lend a sympathetic ear to not let the magnetic pads on their normalsuits fail.

The combat AI in the commandeered MS indicates an incoming object, closing fast…too big to be a missile…too small to be a warship.

Jolie, however doesn't need the combat AI to identify the approaching object accelerating closer at multiple mach speeds.

Jolie twists her mobile suit just in time to avoid an incoming blast from the Omega Gundam…Jolie tries to put out of her mind that the OG has at least ten times the power of the mobile suit that she is operating.

Jolie sets the mobile suit's beam rifle and manages a glancing hit on the Omega Gundam as it streaks by…apparently, its clone pilot has no inclination to engage Jolie in further combat at the moment. Jolie notes signs of damage on the OG's armor…a fact confirmed by the combat AI.

The Omega Gundam streaks away.

Christian and Eric exhale sighs of relief, but their relief originates from different causes.

For Major Eric Gardner – his relief lies simply in the knowledge that he will likely live to fight another day.

For Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray – his relief is that _she_ survived.

_She_ - Jo-M.

In the cockpit of the commandeered Titans mobile suit, Major Jolie Minh-Miguel is silent until she receives a hailing signal from the E.F.S.S. _Amuro Ray_, commanded as always by Commodore Beecher Olech. Within fifteen minutes, Jolie, Christian, and Eric dock with the E.F.S.S. warship, which will convey them back to Garrison Noah, and a meeting with General Bright Noah and President Mirai Yashima-Noah that will doubtless leave the couple dumbfounded.

* * *

The Omega Gundam, having sustained substantial damage to both its external shell and its power core, docks with the _Mapother_, a mammoth cargo ship that Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi had converted into a mobile fortress during the war against the Phobos Zeon Forces and has quietly re-commissioned for her present purposes.

Minerva is disturbed by the condition of the mecha, but appears relieved when she sees its pilot, Jo-M, emerge from the cockpit in good condition.

"Ma'am," Jo-M salutes crisply.

"Talk to me, Jo," Minerva replies, returning the salute.

"My apologies, ma'am. The operation to root out the Titans' advance base was a failure. Although I did destroy and damage a number of their warships, mobile suits, and maintenance facilities, the Omega Gundam sustained heavy damage before I could truly cripple their forces."

"You were attacked by some sort of corrosive agent?" Minerva surmises, inspecting the armor of the Omega Gundam.

"Yes, ma'am," Jo-M confirms, not surprised that Minerva has so clearly discerned the situation.

Minerva nods, "We'll get the repair crews on it right away. You get some rest."

"Ma'am," Jo-M adds, "Jolie Minh was there…and Christian Ray."

Minerva smiles a small, enigmatic smile, "You've become quite interested in Christian Ray, haven't you?"

Jo-M says nothing, staring at Minerva with those wide, expressive eyes that Minerva finds so familiar.

Minerva pats Jo-M's shoulder with her flesh right hand.

* * *

Attired in their formal dress uniforms, Major Jolie Minh-Miguel, Major Eric Gardner, and Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray confer with President Mirai Yashima-Noah and her husband, General Bright Noah, at a top priority, heavy security meeting at the President's Office in Green Oasis City. Expressions are grave, and a heavy, ominous silence lingers in the air.

General Noah runs his hands through his graying hair, and after a long, simmering silence, finally rumbles, "We've been fools…blind fools, letting Blackhead and his cronies get away with this right in front of our faces."

President Mirai Noah says in a gentle, but lamenting voice, "It explains the military budget irregularities that Cameron has been tracking for the past three years. We've long suspected that General Blackhead has been misappropriating the military budget, but until now, we had no concrete idea or evidence on just what he was planning."

Bright observes, "Based on the data that Major Minh, Major Gardner, and Chief Ray have brought to us, these new Titans Forces might have as much as three times our strength…and they're being supported by the Buch Concern."

Mirai senses the direction of her husband's thoughts, and quickly interjects, "Hathaway and Minerva _aren't_ a part of this, Bright. You and I both understand the political situation in the Shambala Republic right now: Minerva and Sayla are locked in a political struggle with Meitzer Ronah. Our intelligence people at Side 3 have reported that Ronah might be planning some kind of separatist movement."

Bright puts a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder, "I didn't say that I believe that Hathaway and Minerva are behind or helping the Titans in any way. It wasn't what I was thinking at all."

"I think I can corroborate the President's viewpoint, General," Jolie interjects, "The presence of the Omega Gundam…and its attack on the Titans is compelling evidence of that. We still don't know what Athe…Minerva Zabi's game is, but at the very least, she's not an ally of the Titans."

General Noah nods, but adds, "In any case, the revival of the Titans poses a grave security threat to the Federation. Mirai, I think we need to brace for a likely attempt at a _coup d'etat_ – Blackhead's goal is likely to attack Side 7 and overthrow the current Federation government in favor of an anti-Spacenoid regime."

Mirai nods, "Put the regular forces and SNRI on standby alert – Priority R1. For the time being, though, let's not announce this to the public – we don't need mass panic on top of everything else right now."

* * *

Even as the Earth Federation Forces and SNRI begin to mobilize for a confrontation that could erupt at any time, Jolie and Christian return to the Utopia Towers for some much-needed downtime after their latest harrowing mission. Such undertakings always drain the mind, body, and soul.

Christian finds Jolie seated in the den, cigarette and a book at hand, as is so often the case. He approaches her tentatively.

"Jolie," Christian hedges, "I want to have an honest talk with you...about some things that have been on my mind."

"So do I," Jolie confesses, butting out her half-smoked cigarette on an ashtray situated on a coffee table, "You seemed quite concerned about the Omega Gundam's clone pilot when we were at Industria Colony."

Christian chooses his words carefully before replying, "I…sometimes confuse her with you. It's almost like you two are the same person."

Jolie inserts a fresh cigarette between her lips and lights it before replying, "Christian…I've told you before: if you don't focus your thoughts in combat, you're jeopardizing yourself and your comrades."

"Yes, ma'am," Christian replies impatiently, more to avoid a confrontation than to express actual agreement, "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What's on your mind?" Jolie ventures, setting the cigarette on the ashtray.

Christian goes down on one knee in front of Jolie, taking her hand in his, "Jolie…I…you've been so good to me. Other than my mom, nobody has ever been as good to me as you've been. Jolie…I…I want you to know…I…_I love you_."

Jolie stares at Christian in stunned silence for a long minute. Not that the boy's revelation comes as surprising to Jolie…it absolutely doesn't…but to hear him pouring his heart out to her like this nevertheless catches her off-guard.

Jolie rises from the sofa, keeping Christian's hand gently in hers. She looks him meaningfully and earnestly in the eye before saying gently, "Christian…I know. I understand how you feel about me, and I'm very flattered and grateful. You need to understand, though…I love you too, but I'm _not in love with you_…do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

The words cut through Christian like the tip of the sharpest sword…his choked reply comes through like a sob, "Then…who are you in love with?"

Jolie turns silently towards the collection of photographs on the mantle, particularly towards the five-year old photograph of Jolie with her late husband, Jonah Miguel, shortly before the two agreed to be married.

"You're still in love with Jonah," Christian whispers, almost as if finally admitting it to himself, "You'll always be in love with him."

Jolie says nothing for a long moment, before finally whispering in reply, "I'm sorry."

Twin trails of tears seep forth from Christian's blue eyes as he answers, "No…I'm sorry."

Christian kisses Jolie on her cheek, and then disappears into his quarters, locking the door behind him.

Jolie resumes her seat on the sofa, turning to the ashtray, noticing for the first time the two half-smoked cigarettes there.

Jolie picks up the first of the two half-smoked cigarettes, inhaling deeply from it, even as she watches the second burn itself to nothingness.

* * *

Shambala Intelligence Agency Directory Hathaway Noah rushes into the office of his wife, Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi, in Shambala City at Side 3.

"Babe," Hathaway says, his eyes wild, "Just got word from Dory: Titans Forces have begun mobilizing towards Side 7."

"Have you contacted Bright and Mirai?" Minerva asks.

Hathaway nods, "They know. They're preparing to intercept, but they're outnumbered and outgunned."

Minerva rises, feeling a moment's vertigo and nearly collapsing back into her seat.

"Whoa," Hathaway says, rushing forth to steady his wife, his face betraying deep concern, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Minerva says, "Order Jo-M to mobilize our forces."

* * *

At the Zeon Daikun Memorial Hospital elsewhere in Shambala City, Defense Minister Meitzer Ronah of the Shambala Republic visits with a patient fighting for his life in the hospital's trauma care unit.

Col. Carrozzo Matthioli was brought into ZD Memorial with massive head and facial injuries, including the removal of several dozen pieces of embedded shrapnel and tissue damage from a combat corrosive. The colonel is expected to survive, but will be permanently disfigured.

At Meitzer's side is his nineteen year old daughter, Nadia.

Meitzer receives an urgent communiqué from one of his aides, and turns to his daughter, "Nadia, my dear…stay here with Carrozzo. I'm urgently needed elsewhere right now."

Nadia looks imploringly at her father, "Father, I've told you before: I don't love Col. Matthioli."

"Be that as it may," Meitzer says sternly, "This man is important to my goals, and has served me well. I promised you to him, and I am a man of my word."

"You're a businessman," Nadia says icily, "and you understand the value of commodities. But I'm your daughter…not a commodity to be traded."

Meitzer sighs, "Everything…everyone is a potential commodity, my dear. Attaining a goal…fulfilling an idea…requires sacrifices. Please try to understand that, Dora."

Meitzer departs with his retinue, rushing to his business. Nadia Ronah sighs, placing a gentle hand on the bandaged head of the wounded, moaning man lying on a sickbed before her.

Carrozzo reaches out and takes Nadia's hand into his own, the comfort of the touch failing to abate the burning agony on his face…or the rage in his heart.

* * *

Aboard the _Mapother_, Jo-M performs a diagnostic check on the Omega Gundam. During a continuous seventy-two hour work cycle, Minerva Zabi's technicians have succeeded in repairing the damage to the MS. The Omega Gundam is once again in top operating condition and is armed and primed for combat.

Confirming that all systems are combat ready, Jo-M then turns her attention to a thought…an image…that has become increasingly difficult to dismiss.

_Christian. Christian Ray._

* * *

Shambala Defense Guard Forces fire the first shot, in the open space between Side 5 and Side 7, attacking the advancing Titans Forces with a heavy salvo from the ships of their armada. Dozens of Shambala Defense Guard MS rush forth in battle formation to meet advancing legions of Titans MS.

War has returned, once again, to the Earth Sphere.

* * *

Word of the battle has already reached Garrison Noah at Side 7. The regular Earth Federation Forces and SNRI deploy for combat.

Major Jolie Minh-Miguel and Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray dash for their respective mobile suits, the White Phoenix Gundam and the Centurion Gundam. Within a minute, their MS tear forth, headed into battle.

* * *

The regular Federal Forces and SNRI arrive upon a scene of bedlam as the Titans and Shambala forces maul each other with advanced mobile weapons. Here, a Titans MS balloons into an expanding mass of burning shrapnel while elsewhere, a Shambala MS is cleaved cleanly in half before disappearing in a terrible fireball.

The most intense destruction, however, surrounds the Omega Gundam unit, slicing through the Titans Forces with a frightening display of massive firepower and unmatchable speed and maneuverability.

Jo-M senses the approach of the White Phoenix Gundam and the Centurion Gundam…of Jolie Minh and _Christian Ray_, and turns away from her Titans quarry towards them.

"You!" Jo-M snarls towards Jolie, "Now that I'm here, this world doesn't need you! Die, Jolie Minh! DIE! DIE!"

"Make me," Jolie bites out quietly, dodging the incoming fire.

"Jolie, stop!" Christian cries out.

"Stay out of this," Jolie orders, "Back up Eric, Chieming, and the others. That's an order: GO!"

"The hell I will," Christian mutters.

Christian points the beam rifle of the Centurion Gundam at the Omega Gundam…then shifts its aim towards the White Phoenix Gundam.

* * *

The White Phoenix Gundam and the Omega Gundam exchange a dozen salvoes in the blink of an eye…missiles intercepting beam blasts, beam blasts intercepting missiles. Their combat appears more intricate dance than the brutal, savage struggle as it is. Jolie and Jo-M up the ante with every move of their MS…with every shot they fire. A strike, a dodge, a parry, a counterstrike…with death and destruction averted by margins of nanoseconds and millimeters.

In terms of raw talent…raw skill and ability, Jolie and Jo-M are equals…and how could they not be? Jo-M is the genetic clone of Jolie Minh…identical to her genetic donor in every way. Their Newtype abilities…their reflexes…are a dead heat.

But no perfection of genetic reproduction, however, can replicate Jolie's seven years of combat experience. Major Jolie Minh-Miguel is a war veteran who has experienced hundreds of sorties over a period of nearly a decade…her counterpart has experienced fewer than a dozen actual combat scenarios.

Jolie gets in close to the Omega Gundam, within a range that the ebony-armored Gundam cannot effectively use its ranged weapons. The White Phoenix Gundam then extracts one of the OG's own beam sabers from its external storage nacelle, in part to deprive its foe of another weapon, and in part to facilitate its next attack.

"You weren't meant to exist, Jo," Jolie says to her double, "You're an abomination. I'm seeing to it that you're destroyed before you can cause any more harm."

So saying, Jolie raises the beam saber of the Omega Gundam and prepares to drive it into its host MS's cockpit.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Christian Ray screams, diving the Centurion Gundam towards the WPG for a devastating drop kick.

The kick sends the WPG careening away from the OG.

Christian follows up with a wild flurry of blasts that strike the WPG's thrusters, disabling it. Christian screams with volcanic fury as he unleashes blast after blast.

"DIE, JOLIE!" Christian roars, tears leaking from his eyes.

Christian feels a magnetic force tugging at the Centurion Gundam and notes the Omega Gundam idling behind him.

"Christian," Jo-M says, "Come with me."

Without hesitation, Christian reaches the Centurion Gundam's armored hand out, which is taken by the Omega Gundam's own armored hand.

The two Gundams disappear into the distance.

* * *

In the cockpit of the White Phoenix Gundam, Jolie slowly comes to her senses. She checks the WPG's combat systems…thrusters are out, and weapons systems are also inoperable.

Jolie opens communications, "Centurion Leader to Centurion Two. Chief Ray, do you hear me?"

No reply.

Jolie notes that the battle has moved away from her present location; she sends a distress signal to nearby Federal Forces' vessels and vehicles and abandons the WPG's cockpit for the coldness of space.

A coldness that does not match that felt in her heart.

_Christian…why?_

* * *

Shortly afterwards, the Omega Gundam and the Centurion Gundam dock with the _Mapother_, Minerva Zabi's personal mobile combat fortress.

Jo-M and Christian disembark from their respective mobile suits and run into each other's arms.

"I've been waiting for you," Jo-M says to Christian.

"I've been looking for you," Christian replies, stroking her long, black hair, "I thought it was her, but it was you all along."

The couple embraces for a long minute…and then are approached by another, familiar young couple…Minerva Zabi-Noah and her husband, Hathaway Noah.

Minerva smiles and offers her flesh right hand to Christian, "Welcome to the Shambala Republic, Christian."


	9. EPISODE 8: DRAGON AND PHOENIX

**EPISODE 8: DRAGON AND PHOENIX**

Captain Chieming Noah, senior executive officer of the Centurion Team, bursts into her commanding officer and best friend Major Jolie Minh-Miguel's luxurious penthouse suite atop the Utopia Towers residential compound in an upscale section of Green Oasis City.

Jolie has been out of touch for the past forty-eight hours. She hasn't been AWOL...Jolie has still maintained her daily duty schedule of routine security patrols of the Side 7 Zone and training new SNRI recruits, but beyond that, she's been as rare as a solar eclipse.

An early morning meeting with SNRI Director Col. Christina McKenzie, however, has confirmed what Chieming had actually heard through the channels: Chief Warrant Officer Christian Ray has deserted the Earth Federation Forces, taking with him the RX-780-1 Centurion Gundam unit.

Col. McKenzie has not only confirmed as much, but issued the general order that Chief Ray is considered a threat to Federation security, and SNRI personnel are instructed to destroy him and the CG-1 on sight.

Col. McKenzie, however, had nothing to offer on the "hows" and "whys" of Christian's betrayal, and Chieming wants to get that straight from Jolie herself.

Except the White Phoenix is nowhere to be found.

Ms. Cynthia steps out from the kitchen, apparently surprised to see Chieming, "Oh, Miss Noah…"

"Hi, Cyn," Chieming says, "Is Jolie in?"

"She left early this morning," Cynthia replies, "she hasn't been in much since young Master Christian…left."

"Thanks, Cyn," Chieming says, "If Jolie comes in, tell her I've been looking for her."

* * *

At SNRI's MS deck at Garrison Noah, Chief Warrant Officers Amy Chu and Rayann Zhang sit atop the shoulders of one of the Jet Jegan Strikes newly delivered to SNRI from Anaheim Enterprises…the first delivery of a new frontline model that SNRI has received in two years.

And, all things considered, such a paltry delivery, considering that SNRI represents (or at least, is supposed to represent) the vanguard of the Earth Federation's defense. Yes, the Jet Jegan Strike is among the most advanced, well-armed, and maneuverable mobile suits available, but the allotment of these units provided to SNRI is but a pittance compared to the massive resources that have been lavished on, apparently, a reorganized and reinstituted Titans Corps.

The SNRI was first organized in late U.C. 0093, several months after Col. Char Aznable's final assault against the Earth Federation. In the wake of Char's nearly successful destruction of Earth's ecosystem (a goal finally realized seven years later by his _de facto _successor, Archduke Alexander Miguel), the Earth Federation began to increasingly see the value of having a specially trained and equipped ready-reaction force that could quickly respond to crises in a manner that the bulky, unwieldy Earth Federation Space Armada and Mobile Suit Corps could not – a function that had been fulfilled with remarkable effectiveness by the Lond Bell Task Force during the Char Crisis.

After Char's defeat, the Earth Federation Forces, under the directive of then-Col. Bright Noah, began to expand the original Lond Bell concept into a more fully-developed, cohesive Special Forces corps that would recruit and train only the most capable, skilled, and loyal young officers that the Federation could find. Heading the organization of the Special Forces was a new think-tank of military veterans, senior intelligence operatives, engineers, and scientists that came to be designated as the Strategic Naval Research Institute (SNRI).

For years, SNRI's direct involvement with the Special Forces was, if not exactly a secret, then at least not a fact that was extensively publicized or dwelt upon.

Following the Phobos Zeon Wars of U.C. 0098-0100, however, SNRI became publicly synonymous with the Special Forces, and, at least in the immediate aftermath of the war against the last of the Zeon warlords, represented the vanguard of the Federation's remaining military power.

From U.C. 0102 onward, however, the Federation government's support for SNRI began to wane as General Manron Blackhead (then newly returned to active duty after a painful two-year rehabilitation from severe injuries sustained during a treacherous attack by the Phobos Zeon Forces) persuaded a number of high-level Federation policymakers that the fledgling Shambala Republic, which had extended its sovereignty over all of the cislunar space colonies (formerly Earth Federation colonies) except for Side 7 during the two years immediately following the conclusion of the Phobos War, represented a grave threat to the security of the Earth Federation, and would prove to be as terrible a menace to the Federation as the republic's predecessor, the Archduchy of Zeon, had been. Blackhead argued passionately and persuasively that the Earth Federation's only viable response, to preserve its very existence, was to entrust its security not to a small force of Newtypes and Spacenoids, whose sympathies were, as always, suspect, but to a massive space armada and mobile suit corps more powerful and well-equipped than any other that the Earth Federation Forces had ever fielded. In short, Blackhead advocated the expansion of the Federal Forces to an extent unseen since the One Year War.

General Bright Noah persistently objected to Blackhead's proposals, vainly attempting to remind the Federation legislature and his colleagues in the Federation High Command that Blackhead's errant management of the Phobos War had given Archduke Alexander Miguel the opportunity to launch a critical strike against the Federation from which it has never fully recovered. Blackhead countered by arguing that General Noah and possibly, even his wife, President Mirai Yashima-Noah were Shambala-sympathizers because their son, Hathaway, and his wife Minerva had been traitors to the Federation and among the leaders of the Shambala Republic. This outburst had earned Blackhead the public opprobrium and reprimand of the High Command and the legislature, but in private, many agreed with Blackhead – or merely supported him because they found his aggressive policies more appealing than the Noahs' conciliatory, diplomatic approach.

None of these thoughts of history and politics are on the minds of Amy and Rayann, however. They are both very young (Amy is sixteen, and Rayann seventeen), and their thoughts pertain more to the personal than the political.

"I can't believe that Christian turned traitor," Amy says, absently twirling a crescent wrench in her fingers, "I mean, he was such a hottie!"

Rayann, attractive chin resting in the palms of her hands, rolls her eyes and replies to her friend, "Just because he's cute doesn't mean he can't be a traitor. Sometimes, the cuter they are, the more they've got to hide."

Amy grins at her friend, "You must be full of secrets then."

Rayann chucks a rubber component ring at Amy, who doesn't even bother to dodge it.

Major Eric Gardner, emerging from a personnel corridor, floats towards the two young women. Were it any other superior officer, Amy and Rayann would have stood up and saluted, but Major Gardner (whom they've affectionately dubbed "E Major") has always been known to be easygoing and never a stickler for formality or protocol.

"Hiya, ladies," Eric announces in his characteristically cheerful manner, "You girls seen Major Minh today?"

"Yes, sir," Rayann answers, "She was here to lead the training exercises this morning."

"And since then…?" Eric presses.

"No, sir," Rayann continues, "We haven't seen or heard from her since then."

"Thanks, girls," Eric says as he turns to leave.

* * *

Eric and Chieming catch up with each other in the officer's cafeteria several minutes later.

"Where the hell can she be?" Chieming wonders between sips of fruit juice, "She hasn't been home, and she's not on the base, and nobody can reach her through the comlink network."

"I wouldn't sweat it, babe," Eric replies between bites of his dinner, "It's not unlike Jolie to disappear for a while. She'll turn up."

"We're on standby alert," Chieming reminds her fiancé, "and besides…"

"You're worried about her after what happened with Christian, right?" Eric says, polishing off the last of a spicy chicken wing.

Chieming answers, "Now I know Jolie isn't fragile. We both know that she's been through way tougher things than this, but don't you think…?"

"Nah," Eric says, chugging down a mouthful of root beer (real beer not being served until the conclusion of duty hours), "But if you're worried about her, I'm pretty sure I know where we'll find her."

* * *

The White Phoenix Nightclub is still fairly quiet during Happy Hour, its trendiest patrons not due to arrive for another four or five hours at the earliest. Only a few troubled souls occupy the bar, and the booths and tables are empty.

The billiards room, however, is abuzz with activity, as some early bird club guests find themselves treated to some unexpected excitement.

Major Jolie Minh-Miguel looks resplendently stunning clad in an all-white variation of her Earth Federation Forces dress uniform – a custom design she had commissioned by a renowned designer several years ago to wear to her best friend, Athena Ibaz's wedding to Hathaway Noah, some two years earlier and that she has worn only a few times (at formal functions wherein she would be meeting high-level dignitaries) since, and certainly never for a night at the club.

Until tonight...

* * *

A long, thin brown cigarillo extends from the brilliant grin formed by Jolie's clenched, gleaming white teeth, framed by the ruby red of her lips.

Jolie casually chalks her cue, and says blithely to her audience, "Three in one cue: two corners, side pocket."

So saying, Jolie uses her cue to maneuver the cue ball into position, lines up her targets as if they were enemy mobile suits, and with a single, clean motion that produces a resounding impact, sends three colored balls simultaneously dropping precisely into the pockets she designated.

The performance earns Jolie a round of applause and toasts, to which she responds with a return toast from a glass of burgundy.

Eric and Chieming enter the billiards room quietly and take places among the club patrons; if Jolie notices them, she doesn't bother to acknowledge them...yet.

With casual ease, Jolie lines up three more balls and in a single motion, sends them caroming around the green felt surface of the table to drop softly into the table's pockets.

Jolie rests her cue flat upon the table and eyes her two colleagues and friends for a long, quiet moment before saying, "Yes?"

"Jolie…" Chieming begins, before hesitating as she notes the club patrons around them.

With a single, subtle motion of her head, Jolie directs the patrons to leave, ordering club manager and maitre 'd Philip Stinnis to invite each of the guests to drinks on the house, a gesture well received by the guests.

Philip closes the door behind him, and the three Earth Federation Forces officers are alone in the billiards room.

"Jolie," Chieming says, "I know you probably don't want to discuss it, but about Christian…"

"There's nothing to discuss," Jolie says, lining up another ball and sending it into a corner pocket, "Christian Ray is a traitor."

"You're right," Chieming admits, "but when you meet him again in combat..."

"I'll kill him," Jolie finishes icily, sinking the eight ball into a corner pocket with terrible finality.

* * *

Several hours later, in the early morning hours, Jolie is at the Centurion Team's MS deck at Garrison Noah. She pulls the lapels of her snow-white overcoat closer around her throat and adjusts her equally white officer's hat as she approaches her White Phoenix Gundam, being painstakingly and lovingly serviced by Captain Molly Duran-Pierce and her crackerjack team of technicians.

"Hey, Major," Molly says with a smile as she spots the commanding officer of the Centurion Team.

"Don't you ever go home?" Jolie chides her old friend and trusted chief mechanic warmly, "You do have a husband these days, after all. It isn't right for you to leave him sleeping alone in a cold bed."

"Well, if you didn't go and get your machine trashed so often, I could be home earlier every night, yeah," Molly replies, with a tone far less caustic than the words themselves.

"Sorry," Jolie says with genuine contrition.

"What's been up with you lately anyway?" Molly asks, equal parts curiosity and concern, "For years, you'd never come back with as much as a nick in the paint of your MS, but in just the past two months, you've brought the WPG back wrecked about a half dozen times."

Jolie shrugs noncommittally, "I'm just getting old, I guess. Reflexes are going away...or maybe the Omega Gundam is just that tough."

"…or you haven't really been trying," a familiar voice cuts in.

Jolie turns to the source of the familiar voice, "Camille."

Dr. Camille Vidan of Anaheim Enterprises appears on the gantry behind Jolie; she had sensed his presence at Side 7 since the afternoon, and is hardly surprised by the presence of her mentor now.

"You're a long way from AE," Jolie remarks dryly, "What brings you all the way out here, Doc?"

"The Titans," Camille replies, "I've had some experience dealing with them."

"So I've heard," Jolie says with a knowing smirk.

Camille fixes Jolie in his gaze as he says, "My experience also tells me that the only reason that you've been keeping poor Captain Duran-Pierce working overtime in this hangar is because you really haven't been half trying in all of your combat sorties against the Omega Gundam."

"Don't sell yourself short, Doc," Jolie says noncommittally, "You did one hell of a job on the Omega Gundam; the thing's a beast."

"Perhaps," Camille allows, "but your combat experience should be more than sufficient to overcome the mecha advantage that Jo-M has. Jolie: I think you need to be honest with yourself. You haven't used the full potential of your abilities during these past five years, and especially not since you started training Christian Ray. Isn't that right?"

Jolie says nothing.

Camille waits a poignant moment, and then continues, "I understand. It's because…"

"Camille, please," Jolie says somewhat desperately, cutting him off.

Jolie closes her eyes as unwelcome memories invade her consciousness…

* * *

_With a deft shot from the WPG's beam rifle, Jolie shoots the primary cannon of the Azrael out of the enemy mobile suit's hand._

_Jolie raises the WPG high above the Azrael…her heart, her eyes…her entire body on fire._

_"NOW YOU DIE FOR ALL YOU'VE DONE!" Jolie screams._

_A powerful burst of white energy erupts forward from Jolie's forehead…expanding beyond the cockpit of the WPG…amplified by the MS's biosensor system. The energy glows white hot…no less destructive than the energy that the__Scylla__or__Charbydis__can spew…but more concentrated…focused upon one target: Alexander Miguel._

_The deadly energy assumes form…the shape of a burning, fiery phoenix…a White Phoenix of PSI-energy…and reaches forth vengefully for the Azrael…unleashing a scream of rage and malice._

_Glory forever to Zeon…Miguel has time to think._

_The energy is met by another, energy stream…which also assumes an avian form…the noble form of a proud dove, which halts the momentum of the phoenix…creating an expanding white hot bubble of concentrated PSI-energy._

_"JOLIE!" Jonah's voice comes through the tactical network._

_"Jonah…don't," Jolie grunts, "I…I can't stop this…you'll…"_

_"Alex," Jonah says, his voice straining, "Get out of here! Go, NOW!"_

_The Archduke hesitates for a moment until his younger brother screams emphatically,__**"NOW!"**_

_The Azrael vectors away from the dual Gundams and the lethal bubble of concentrated PSI-energy between them._

_"Jolie…," Jonah grunts out as he feels his energy waning, "I'm…sorry…so sorry."_

_Jonah's energy bubble collapses, and the White Phoenix's energy washes across the armor of the Centurion Gundam, sending an electrical current of hundreds of thousands of volts coursing throughout the mecha's superstructure, including straight into the cockpit._

_Jonah feels cold as the electricity runs through his body…burning out tissues, organs, nerves, and frying his blood solid. His muscles lose strength._

_Jolie, her eyes blinded with tears, screams desperately,__**"JOOOONNNAHHHHHH!"**_

_The White Phoenix energy reaches out beyond the Centurion Gundam to strike at many critical components of the__Scylla, including the focal lenses and the aiming mechanisms. The command center through which firing commands are sent to the cannon's mighty servos is also annihilated by the White Phoenix PSI-energy…which consumes everything in its path._

* * *

Jolie opens her eyes. She suddenly feels deathly cold and begins to tremble. Her quaking hands draw together the collar of her white overcoat over her throat.

Camille speaks again, gently, "Jo-M and Christian's combined power could be as great as the combined power that you and Jonah once exhibited. To overcome them, you'll need to tap into and unleash your full potential. Will you?"

Jolie is silent for a moment, then replies, "I've let Amuro down. I've let the Federation down. Most of all, I've let Christian down. It was my responsibility to train him to be a good soldier and a responsible Newtype, and I've failed."

Camille says nothing.

Jolie swivels her head towards Camille, saying, "I created this mess; I'll clean it up."

Camille nods, placing a hand on Jolie's shoulder, "I've made some…modifications to the White Phoenix Gundam. I uploaded data about these modifications into the WPG's combat computer. I hope that you'll find them useful."

With a final pat on Jolie's shoulder, Camille begins walking away.

"Doc," Jolie says, "Thank you."

Camille turns and offers Jolie a wan smile, "It's my last gift to you…at least as an MS engineer. I've already tendered my resignation with Anaheim Enterprises."

"Why?" Jolie asks.

Camille sighs, "I've had enough…more than enough…of piloting mobile suits and designing mobile suits for war. I've contributed to more deaths than I can count. Enough's enough. Fa and I plan to go down to Earth; we'll continue our research and development of technology to help restore the planet's ecosystem. You can say it's my way of doing penance for the lives I've taken, directly or indirectly."

Jolie nods, "I…can relate. Good luck, Doc."

"You too, Jolie," Camille says with a final smile.

The onetime pilot of the Zeta Gundam leaves the pilot of the White Phoenix Gundam behind.

* * *

Minutes later, Jolie is sealing the O-ring collar of her normalsuit.

Jolie boards the cockpit of the White Phoenix Gundam, switching on life support and surveillance systems, but leaving all other systems (including thrust and combat) offline.

Finally, Jolie dons her helmet and seals its visor, and accesses the combat computer of the WPG…bringing a newly uploaded file online – codename: "Shinta" password: "Qum."

Data soon appears on Jolie's monitor…data that will delete itself without a trace after it has been displayed once. Jolie absorbs the information that appears on the screen.

Several minutes later, Jolie sits back and closes her eyes, entering a meditative trance.

The eyes of the White Phoenix Gundam remain cold and dark as its systems idle on Standby Mode.

* * *

The converted cargo carrier _Mapother _drifts in Earth orbit, above the nighttime side of the planet…not that day and night on Earth are as easily distinguished as they had once been.

Aboard the ship's MS deck, the RX-780-1 Centurion Gundam is obscured behind multiple scaffolds as a crew of more than a dozen technicians labor through what appears to be a drastic and extensive overhaul.

Observing the upgrades and modifications of the mobile suit from deck level is its most recent pilot, Christian Ray – formerly of SNRI, now of the Shambala Republic Defense Guard, a fact manifest in his new uniform.

_Just another uniform_…Christian sighs internally…_and another flag._

Christian senses a familiar, soothing presence, and momentarily, he feels the soft warmth of Jo-M's arms around him, leaning her head gently against the small of his back.

Christian grins as he hears Jo-M sigh with contentment; he takes her hands into his own as he turns to face her.

_God, she's identical to Jolie…but also, so different…_

"The conversions will be finished in another few hours," Jo-M says to the young man in whom she has discovered the experience of love, "Lady Minerva says that the modifications will enable us to use the Omega Gundam and your Gundam in conjunction; our combat effectiveness will be greatly enhanced."

Christian sighs, "Yeah…that's what Lady Minerva promised, and she'll deliver…of course she will. It's in her interests to do so."

Jo-M, having grown sensitive to Christian's thoughts and feelings, observes, "You seem unhappy."

"Jo," Christian says, kissing her softly on the cheek, "Have you ever wondered…have you ever wondered just _why_ you have to serve Minerva Zabi?"

Jo's answer is straightforward and direct, "That is my purpose. Lady Minerva created me to protect the Shambala Republic."

"It doesn't bother you," Christian asks, "that your entire existence is defined by being someone else's living weapon?"

Jo replies after a moment's hesitation, "I…I've never thought about it."

Christian continues, "Ever since I was born, the Earth Federation Forces have been using me. They wanted to turn me into my father. He was their living weapon for years…their knight in shining armor. Their Gundam ace. When he was gone, they tried to make me another him – so they could use me the way that they used him, and like they're using Jolie Minh. It's the same way that Minerva Zabi is using you, Jo…and trying to use me as well. The Earth Federation…the Archduchy of Zeon…the Shambala Republic…the Buch Concern…SNRI…the Titans…they're all the same, Jo. All they want is to destroy each other so that they can impose their will on the world, and they'll use anything and anybody in any way to reach that goal. Minerva Zabi…Jolie Minh…they're all the same."

Christian can tell by the expression on Jo's fresh, youthful visage that he has led her to reflect upon this reality for the first time.

Christian wraps his arms around Jo, holding her close, whispering to her, "Life is so much more than what we've been forced to accept. We're not weapons for someone else to use, Jo. We're people. We have the right to live for ourselves…the way we want to. Wouldn't you rather live in peace with me? We could leave here; they can't stop us. We could find a place where we could live peacefully together forever, and never have to kill or risk being killed again."

Jo looks deeply into Christian's eyes…a Newtype spark forming between them as the import of the handsome young man's words begin to dawn in Jo's mind.

"Whatever you wish to do, wherever you wish to go, I'll go with you," Jo declares.

Christian smiles, but says, "Well, that's the mentality you've got to get out of…even if it is me. I've never followed anyone or any rules unless I wanted to. You could learn to do the same."

Jo bites her lip in deep thought for a moment, and begins, "I…"

Before she can say more, the couple hears the familiar approaching footsteps of Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi.

From photographic images he had seen, Christian had long judged Minerva Zabi to be an extraordinarily beautiful young woman – possessed of a beauty distinct from, but comparable to Jolie/Jo-M's. Seeing Minerva in person, however, proves to Christian that the photographs did not do the real Minerva justice. The onetime Duchess of Zeon evinces an air of refined regality and charismatic command that embodies leadership.

Christian Ray's problem, of course, is that he hates following leaders.

Winning smile in place, Minerva asks Christian, "Have you become accustomed to serving among us?"

"Yes, ma'am," Christian replies, not liking the choice of the word "serving," though Minerva's tone is appealing enough.

Minerva says to Christian, "The Draco Gundam will be ready for deployment within two hours time; I'll need you to be prepared to take it for a test sortie in conjunction with Jo-M and her Omega Gundam."

Christian is about to ask about the designation "Draco Gundam," but the need is obviated as he spots a great winged structure being lowered onto the back of the mobile suit that had been previously designated "Centurion Gundam."

The installation of the wing unit will not only grant the Draco Gundam a degree of independent flight speed and mobility comparable to that of the White Phoenix Gundam (something that the Centurion Gundam had always lacked when it was not combined with the WPG into the PSI-Gundam), but also an array of beam and solid weaponry operated through PSI-guidance, as well as interface possibilities with the Omega Gundam to form a single unit superior to even the PSI-Gundam…which has taken on the designation of Cosmogundam.

The addition of the wing-unit and other sensory and support system structures have notably altered the appearance of the Centurion Gundam…or Gundam-100, as was its original designation when it was rolled out of Anaheim Skunkworks nearly a decade ago. Although the CG's original superstructure is evident, the Shambala upgrades and additions have given it a decidedly more dragon-like profile and image…hence the new designation "Draco Gundam."

"Yes, ma'am," Christian says in response to Minerva's orders, "We'll be ready."

Minerva gives Christian an enigmatic grin and turns to depart; waiting for her at the far end of the MS bay is her husband, SIA Director Hathaway Noah. The couple exchanges a quick, but passionate kiss, and departs the MS bay arm-in-arm.

Jo-M remarks, "I must confess that I used to feel a sort of…envy for the togetherness that Lady Minerva shares with Hathaway Noah."

Christian smiles, "How about now?"

Jo-M returns his smile, "Not so much anymore."

The young couple takes each other's hands and look up at their two mobile suits, the Draco Gundam and the Omega Gundam…their decision…their future already embraced even as they embrace each other.

* * *

Minerva and Hathaway ascend a turbo lift from the MS deck to the bridge of the _Mapother_.

In the privacy of the lift, Minerva confides to her husband, "Christian isn't planning on staying here, and when he does leave, he's going to take Jo with him."

"What makes you say that?" Hathaway ventures, "And if that's the case, why aren't you doing anything about it?"

Minerva smirks, "It might be a Newtype's intuition, and one thing I've come to understand about Newtypes is that you can't control them: the best you can do is put them in the right place, equip them properly, and then let them do damage that you hope will be beneficial to you."

Moments later, the _Mapother _fires its main engines, _en rout _to the Side 7 Zone.

* * *

Buch Concern Tactical Mobile Platform 6136, commonly designated TS-03 Amsträger, is the combat workhorse of the newly reorganized Titans Corps. The Amsträger's function is analogous to that of the RMS-106 Hizack and RMS-108 Marasai mobile suits favored by the previous incarnation of the Titans Corps during the mid- and late-U.C. 0080s – a mass-manufactured mechanism of mayhem deployed for maximum menace.

Heavily armed with beam and ballistic weaponry, the Amsträger surpasses its older siblings in firepower, and demonstrate none of the weaknesses that had eventually caused the Hizack and Marasai to become liabilities in combat against the AEUG and the Axis Neo Zeon's advanced combat mobile suits during the final months of the Gryps Conflict. Insufficient firepower, comparatively low energy output (translating into slower speed and maneuverability), and relatively weak power had dogged the Hizack and Marasai platforms, and contributed to the Titans' defeat in early U.C. 0088.

The technological developments of the intervening eighteen years, the result in no small part of the Buch Concern's aggressive research and development into mobile weapons design and engineering, have entirely eliminated such weaknesses. Titans mobile suits once suffered from the lowest comparative power yields; now, they boasted the strongest. Titans mobile suits were once pitiably vulnerable to beam weaponry; now, each Titans MS was equipped with an I-Field defense system capable of 95% kinetic particle dispersal.

The Amsträger provides the brute muscle for the Titans Mobile Weapons Division, but no effective mobile weapons force relies on a single type of combat platform alone. General Manron Blackhead, commanding officer of the Titans Corps, understands this principle, and hence, he commissioned the Buch Concern to also develop the transformable and aerodynamic TS-06 Dolch, a distant descendant of the original Titans Corps' Gaplant mobile armor from the Gryps War, and for the elite ace pilots and potential Newtypes serving in the ranks of the Titans, the TS-10 Drachenherz…a design that the Buch Concern developed out of an abandoned (and subsequently stolen) plan by Anaheim Enterprises to improve upon the Cour de Leon design.

When the Titans Corps perpetrated its reign of terror upon the Spacenoid population during the U.C. 0080s, the external armored shells of its mobile suits and mobile armors were painted in a variety of colors – from the military-grade greens of the RMS-106 Hizack to the angry scarlet of the RMS-108 Marasai to the bizarre bluish purple of the RMS-154 Barzam. The original Titans Corps headed by Minister Jamitov Haiman and Col. Bosque Om had unfortunately taken after their Zeon enemy's habit of painting their mobile suits' external armor in a variety of colors. General Blackhead recognizes that the successful conduct of warfare is as much psychological as it is physical, and that mobile suits armored in cold, intimidating shades of black and grey produce greater terror (and consequently, readier capitulation) than do mecha decorated in primary colors.

And so it is that legions of black-and-grey armored twenty-meter tall mechanized troopers bearing the insignia of the Titans Corps presently march through the space colonies of Sides 1, 2, 4, 5, and 6…all space colonies that voluntarily pledged their allegiance to the Shambala Republic a half decade earlier.

The Titans' MS legions systematically and brutally sweep out the civil defense MS stationed at the colonies by the Shambala Defense Guard - quickly and savagely overwhelming the colonies' defenders. The Shambala Defense Guard's MS are well-engineered and well-constructed war machines, and their pilots are well-trained and resilient, but both the machines and the men and women who pilot them were oriented towards security, not full-scale warmarking, and despite a dogged and courageous stand, ultimately fall to the numerically and technologically superior Titans mobile suits.

* * *

The heavy metallic footsteps of Titans' MS reverberate terrifyingly across the streets and buildings of the city. Hundreds of heavily armed Titans infantrymen accompany the mobile suits, breaking down doors and smashing windows of homes and businesses where they respect enemies of the Earth Federation might be concealed.

An Amsträger wraps its massive armored fist around the flag of the Shambala Republic that flies atop the spire tower of the capitol building of Side 6 (the former Riah Republic), crushing the flag and crumpling its pole. Moments later, the pilot of the Amsträger disembarks from his MS, even as two other Amsträgers turn their weaponry upon the crowd of civilians gathered on a nearby boulevard, discouraging any of them from even considering taking kind of hostile action.

The Titans MS pilot unfurls the flags of the Earth Federation Government and the Titans Corps upon the roof of the capitol building.

Senator Cameron Bloom of Side 6 (formerly Prime Minister Cameron Bloom of the Riah Republic) steps forward from behind the crowd, whipping off his spectacles and demanding angrily, "Stop this! Stop this immediately, do you hear me?"

The Titans MS pilot, Captain Blaze Gerard, stares coldly at Senator Bloom as he bites out, "Side 6 is now under the jurisdiction of the Earth Federation Government, Mr. Senator."

"On whose authority?" Cameron snarls.

Captain Gerard pulls his sidearm arm from his holster and pistolwhips the senator, drawing blood from the old diplomat's head.

"On the authority of the Titans Corps, Mr. Senator," Gerard says, as he kicks the fallen Cameron in the chest with the steel toe of his combat boot, kicking Cameron until the senior diplomat spits blood, and then kicks him three more times for the sheer adrenaline-fueled pleasure, "President Yashima-Noah sends her regards."

_Mirai…_Cameron thinks, before his consciousness begins to fade.

_What have these bastards done to Mirai…?_

_

* * *

_

A fleet of Titans warships blockades Side 7, halting all traffic in all directions.

Titans mobile suits patrol the streets of Green Oasis City, having commandeered Garrison Noah and taken command. Regular Federation units are propositioned to integrate under the Titans' chain of command, and those who refuse are immediately arrested and denounced as enemies and traitors to the Federation.

No one yet has given utterance to the phrase that is on all their minds – _coup d'etat_.

At the Executive Offices, Titans MS and foot soldiers have overrun the compound's security force, arresting and summarily executing those who have dared to oppose them.

A final layer of defense…armed Federation Military Police and SNRI personnel, throw themselves in courageous vain in front of heavily armed Titans shock troopers who mow them down with automatic weapons fire.

General Manron Blackhead, supporting himself on a cane and a crutch (the enduring legacy of having misplaced his trust in Archduke Alexander Miguel of Phobos Zeon), enters the Office of the President, a sinister smile growing upon his face.

General Bright Noah and his wife, President Mirai Yashima-Noah, stand side-by-side, glaring in defiance at the leader of the Titans Corps.

"Madame President, General Noah," General Blackhead says floridly, puffing in a stinking cigar in a breach of etiquette that is but the least of the general's numerous offenses, "General Manron Blackhead reporting."

Blackhead offers the couple a mock salute whose every slight motion bears unambiguous contempt.

"General," Mirai says to Blackhead in a steady, indignant tone, "This is treason."

"To say nothing of insubordination," Bright adds, pulling his sidearm, but having it swiftly shot out of his hand by a sharpshooter Titans officer – one of Blackhead's adjutants.

"With all due respect, Madame President, General Noah," Blackhead retorts, "My men and I are doing our best to enforce the authority of the Earth Federation. The Federation has many enemies, Madame President, most notably the Shambala Republic, which so impudently and ungratefully took control of our space colonies after the Federal Forces were exhausted by the war against the Zeon…"

"…a war we had to fight in no small part because of your collusion with Alexander Miguel," General Noah spits out, accusatory finger directed towards Blackhead, "You compromised us to the enemy once before, Blackhead! I still can't believe that the High Command Staff was stupid enough to restore your command so you could do that to us again!"

Blackhead glares at Bright through cold eyes, "You'd be surprised how many members of the High Command view the world as I do, General Noah…like me, they see through your spineless, appeasement-oriented policies towards the Shambala Republic…coddling those Spacenoid freaks and their precious so-called 'nation'…or maybe it's for personal reasons, eh, Bright? Your son Hathaway…who married that Zabi bitch."

Bright bares his teeth at Blackhead and snarls savagery, "Bastard! How dare you…?"

Blackhead levels a pistol at Bright, "I dare, General…you are now relieved of command. My people will take over from here. Madame President, if you will accompany us."

Armed Titans troops "escort" Bright and Mirai away.

Blackhead takes a seat at the President's desk, blowing a long column of smoke in satisfaction from his copious cigar. He fingers the flag of the Earth Federation Government beside him.

"Now," Blackhead says, "the Federation is finally back on the right path."

* * *

At SNRI Headquarters in Garrison Noah, the Titans have impounded SNRI's mobile suits, spacecraft, facilities, and other equipment.

A vast Titans flag is draped by Titans troops over the great titanium seal of the Earth Federation Government that is mounted to the far armored wall of the massive hold.

Major Eric Gardner and his fiancée Captain Chieming Noah look on incredulously as Titans troops and MS take command of their facility, barring access to the White Phoenix Gundam, Centurion Gundam (Unit 2, formerly assigned to Captain Jonah Michaels and decommissioned from active service in the five years since his death), Cour de Leon, and other assorted units.

"All SNRI personnel are on enforced leave until further notice," announces Col. Mongke Blameernorgh of the Titans Corps, "pending reorganization into Titans' units."

"We weren't notified this through chain-of-command," Eric says, "With all due respect, Col. Blameernorgh, what gives you the authority to give orders here?"

Col. Christina McKenzie appears, wan of expression, "I'm afraid that his authority is, presently, valid, Eric. General Blackhead…has President Yashima-Noah and General Noah in..._protective_ custody."

Chieming gasps, her heart running cold upon learning of her parents' predicament. Eric takes her hand comfortingly into his and glares at the Titans officer, Blameernorgh.

Christina turns to her two charges and says quietly, "Let's go."

Dejectedly, the three SNRI officers prepare to leave.

Eric notices, however, that the White Phoenix Gundam's eyes have begun to glow to a fiery green.

The WPG's right arm swivels into action, raising the white mobile suit's beam rifle, whose barrel glows red an instant before it unleashes hellfire directly through a Titans MS standing a safe distance (approximately 500 meters) from where Eric, Chieming, Christina, and the Centurions stand.

As the Titans MS, a Dolch, disintegrates into a shower of flaming shrapnel, throwing the MS deck compound into chaos, Major Jolie Minh-Miguel's voice booms out of the White Phoenix Gundam's external speakers, "Battle stations, now!"

Reacting to years of training and combat experience, the SNRI personnel scramble towards their mobile suits, taking down Titans' personnel in hand-to-hand combat or in exchanges of gunfire.

Eric and Chieming reach their mobile suits (a Strike Gundam and a Cour de Leon, respectively) safely, but Jolie notices Amy and Rayann pinned down by the heavy automatic weapons fire of a platoon of Titans troops.

Jolie manually sets the targeting scope of the WPG, lining up the squad of Titans troops, and then thumbs the trigger for the WPG's Vulcan cannon. Hundreds of rounds of ammunition pump forth from the dual cannon mounted to the side of the WPG's head unit, rapidly reducing the Titans' troops to piles of bloody, skewered flesh.

Their path cleared, Rayann and Amy take to their mobile suits, as do dozens of other SNRI pilots. Not everyone makes it. Even Jolie cannot be everywhere at once, and she winces as she notes five SNRI troops cut down by enemy fire as they attempted to sprint for their mecha.

Jolie vents her rage against the Titans' MS, unleashing multiple volleys of beam fire and torrents of missiles against them. The heavy firepower devastates the SNRI's MS compound, but Jolie figures that the compound was lost to SNRI anyway…at the very least, there's no way she'd let the Titans get their blood-smeared hands on it.

As if to underscore that determination, Jolie takes aim at the Titans' flag draped over the Titanium seal of the Earth Federation. With one final shot from the WPG's beam rifle, Jolie sets the flag on fire…a final show of defiance.

Jolie notices that the SNRI personnel – about two dozen mobile suits, three _Salamis-kai_ class ships, and several personnel carriers (aboard one of which is Captain Molly Duran-Pierce and her engineering crew) have already blasted their way out of Green Oasis Colony.

Jolie lays down some heavy cover fire and turns the WPG around to join them.

Col. Christina McKenzie, from her Cour de Leon mobile suit, contacts Jolie through the tactical net, "Major Minh-Miguel…we're going to rendezvous with the _Amuro Ray_, which has just left Luna 2."

"Why don't we just rendezvous with them at Luna 2?" Jolie asks, fearing the answer.

Christina confirms, "Luna 2 has been overrun by the Titans…same story as ours at Garrison Noah. Commodore Beecher was only able to get the ship out of Luna 2 through heavy combat."

"Hold on, Colonel," Jolie says, turning her attention to the WPG's scanning system, "I've got two incoming bogies…Omega Gundam and…Centurion Gundam, but there's something odd about the profile of the CG."

"Christian Ray?" Col. McKenzie ventures.

"No doubt about it," Jolie replies.

"Don't attack," Christina orders, "Our priority is to rendezvous with the _Amuro Ray_. Don't open fire unless they fire on us, is that understood, Major?"

"Roger, ma'am," Jolie responds.

The Omega Gundam and the Centurion Gundam streak by the retreating SNRI mobile suits, confronting a squadron of Titans warships and MS that have launched from Garrison Noah in hot pursuit.

Jolie's eyes flash as she spots the Draco Gundam, "What the hell have they done with the Centurion Gundam? They've changed it completely!"

* * *

Aboard the Omega Gundam, Jo-M announces, "Cosmogundam docking standby."

"Roger," Christian replies from the Draco Gundam, "Initiate docking sequence."

"Energy level rising," Jo confirms, "Eighty-percent, ninety-percent, one-hundred percent. DOCK NOW!"

Parts swivel, whir, and interlock, and the Omega Gundam all but wraps itself around the Draco Gundam to form the Cosmogundam.

"Cosmocannon standing by," Christian says, "Energy build-up to ninety-eight percent…ready to fire in four seconds and counting."

"Target: Titans' mobile suit and warship squadron," Jo-M affirms.

The Cosmogundam swivels its massive Cosmocannon towards the advancing Titans' MS and warships. With a single, blinding shot, three dozen Titans MS and a half dozen Titans' warships are incinerated.

"God…" Major Eric Gardner whispers from the cockpit of his Strike Gundam.

"Yeah…" is all Jolie can say in response.


	10. EPISODE 9: THE FIERY PHOENIX

**EPISODE 9: THE FIERY PHOENIX**

_The author would like to thank Mr. Eric Gardner, whose contributions were indispensable to the development of this chapter._

_

* * *

_

Major Jolie Minh-Miguel trains the White Phoenix Gundam's weapons systems on the Cosmogundam, locking the rogue mecha into the WPG's targeting mechanism, finger tensing on the trigger.

Likewise, Captain Eric Gardner, Captain Chieming Noah, and the other MS pilots of the SNRI who managed to escape from Side 7's Garrison Noah bring their weapons systems to bear upon powerful enemy mobile suit.

Space is silent, except for the intake of and exhalation of tense breaths, the beeping of avionics devices, and the whirring of internal servos and gears.

The WPG's combat computer indicates, "TARGET: LOCK."

The Cosmogundam extends its massive arm-mounted eight-barreled hyperbeam cannon, pointed at the receding SNRI Forces.

Then, with a sudden swiftness that belies its massive bulk, the Cosmogundam swings the hyperbeam cannon towards the rapidly advancing force of Titans MS and warships.

The eternal blackness of the cosmos glows impossibly bright, like the birth of the universe itself some fifteen billion years earlier, for an instant before eight streams of hyperconcentrated and amplified Minovsky particles radiate towards the Titans' two dozen mobile suits and three battlecarriers, tearing apart their external alloy superstructures before vaporizing the flesh of their occupants.

"Holy fucking shit…" Major Gardner mutters under his breath.

Jolie still has the aft of the Cosmogundam locked in the White Phoenix Gundam's targeting scope; the charge on the WPG's main beam cannon is at 100%.

Jolie exhales and relaxes her grip on the joystick; the energy charge in the WPG's beam cannon depressurizes and dissipates…

Aboard her Cour de Leon mobile suit, Col. Christina McKenzie receives a hailing code from an Earth Federation Forces' warship…

_But is it regular forces, or Titans? _Col. McKenzie muses worriedly.

Christina struggles through the Minovsky particle disruption to pick up voice signals from the Federation warship.

Her efforts are rewarded with the sound of a familiar, friendly voice, "…Commodore Beecher Olech, commanding officer of the Federal Forces battlecarrier _Amuro Ray_, Jupitorius Fleet…"

"This is Archangel 1 to _Amuro Ray_, Col. Christina McKenzie, SNRI, Earth Federation Forces," Christina replies, "Requesting permission for SNRI MS Forces to board _Amuro Ray_, Commodore Beecher."

"Good to hear your voice, Chris," Commodore Beecher says, "Bring your people in."

The SNRI MS dock with the _Amuro Ray_, even as chaos erupts at Side 7…

Even as the WPG touches down and magnetizes itself to the arresting gear on the MS deck of the _Amuro Ray_, a spark flashes from Jolie's helmeted head towards the Cosmogundam.

She senses Jo-M…and Christian Ray.

* * *

A squad of six Titans mobile suits, two Amsträgers and four Dolchs, converge upon the Cosmogundam, their powerful beam cannon unable to inflict damage through the I-Field.

The same cannot be said of the Titans' mobile suits, whose formidable titanium alloy shells, capable of sustaining the rigors of space combat, are simply overmatched by the Cosmogundam's weaponry.

Jo-M emanates a powerful spark from her forehead, and her eyes flash, "A gunship…_Alexandria_-class."

"Yeah," Christian Ray exhales, "It's got a megaparticle beam cannon charging up to fire at us. Not sure that we want to test out our armor and I-Field against that."

"Then we won't," Jo-M answers.

Christian and Jo-M close their eyes, opening their minds to one another. In a moment, they know each other's thoughts and feelings as one…with no distinction or division between their consciousness.

Captain Karl Kortimer, a veteran Federation Space Armada officer whose experience dates back to the One Year War when he served under the command of Fleet Admiral Arthur Tianem in the Battle of Solomon.

Having served in the U.C. 0080s iteration of the Titans, Kortimer is among the hundreds of Federation officers repatriated by the Federal Forces after the conclusion of the Gryps War and subsequent Neo Zeon conflict. Kortimer continued serving as a line officer in the Federation Space Armada, serving as first officer aboard a Federation destroyer during the war on Alexander Miguel's Phobos Zeon Forces before being recruited by General Manron Blackhead for the reformulated Titans Corps, and given command of the _Alexandria_-class battleship _Leviathan_.

General Blackhead handpicked Kortimer for both his tactical acumen and his political bent. To the former, he is well acquitted with an illustrious combat record in which he has played key roles in victories against the Zeon, AEUG and ISRLA. To the latter, Blackhead has long known Kortimer as a staunch opponent of General Bright Noah's collaborationist policies…Kortimer is a Federation loyalist to the core…loving the Earth and deeply resenting the Spacenoids who ruined it.

As such, Captain Kortimer glowers severely at the Gundam-type mobile suit that faces down his warship, holding its position at the twelve o'clock position, three kilometers off his ship's bow.

Radar and analysis tech 2Lt. Forrest Snow of the Titans Corps reports to her commanding officer, "Captain…I've correlated scans of the enemy mobile suit unit with our database. The closest match is the Omega Gundam prototype, but it's not a positive ID."

"Whatever it is, it took down three squads of our MS with ease," Captain Kortimer replies, "Ready megaparticle cannon – target: enemy Gundam unit."

"Energy saturation at 85% and climbing," announces gunnery chief 2Lt. Rush Gordon, "ten seconds to firing…"

Streams of pure PSI-energy flow from the font that is the combined essence of Christian Ray and Jo-M…wending its way through the internal circuitry and energy conduits of the Cosmogundam into the war machine's mighty internal nuclear fusion engine…the energy particles accelerate to critical mass, coalescing, taking dual forms…a dragon and a phoenix.

2Lt. Snow interjects, "Sir…we've got a high energy signature emanating from the Gundam unit. It's…taking shape, Captain."

Snow's counterpart at the gunnery station, 2Lt. Gordon, continues his countdown, "…five, four, three, two, one…commence firing!"

A red stream of violent energy rip forth from the main gun of the _Leviathan_.

Its energy is met by a wash of incandescent white energy that forks from a common bolt into two forks…creating the impression of a dragon…and a phoenix.

For an instant, the void becomes white, and the stars become black…the universe itself become its own mirror image.

The megaparticle energy beam of the _Leviathan_'s main cannon fades from an intense red to a lighter salmon color, and the beam then loses its coherence…fraying and unraveling as if it were a rapidly decaying rope before the wave of white energy.

The energy continues to rush forth to engulf the _Leviathan_, stripping off the ship's armor plating as if it consisted of tissue paper.

The phoenix PSI-energy avatar of Jo-M narrowly misses Green Oasis 1, site of Garrison Noah, but the energy bleeding from the periphery of its trail is enough to cause the external shell of the colony to crack…some of its glass solar panels to shatter, leading to the escape of precious atmosphere.

The energy wave's dragon-like counterpart streaks directly towards another Side 7 colony beyond Green Oasis…expanding it as if it were a massive metallic balloon and immolating it.

Christian's mouth falls open in a horrified gape…for a long moment, no sound comes forth, and then only a stupefied, "I…that…I…wh…"

Jo-M's eyes widen with an unfamiliar sensation of revulsion, "That colony…the people inside."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Christian screams, tears leaking forth from the corners of his eyes.

The Cosmogundam disengages its interlock system, reverting to the Draco Gundam and Omega Gundam.

The Draco Gundam rushes towards the exploding wreck of Side 7's Colony 2.

"Christian!" Jo-M cries out in alarm, transforming the Omega Gundam to mobile armor configuration and engaging its afterburners for pursuit.

"No….no…" Christian moans as he gazes upon the debris…unable to see any corpses, but certain that some must be there.

_Now I know how Jolie must feel_, Christian muses.

"Christian," Jo-M says soothingly, "You didn't…maybe…this colony was uninhabited?"

After another long moment, Christian whispers, "Maybe…but even if…"

Jo-M responds to a flashing indicator on her HUD, "BIOSENSOR: SYSTEM FAILURE"

"Christian," Jo-M says again, "the Omega Gundam's biosensor has failed. We must have overloaded it. Lady Minerva warned me that this could happen."

Christian, having composed himself, replies, "Yeah…we can't continue fighting in this condition. We can rout the Titans' MS here easily even without the Biosensor, but we could still have problems if they bring in their space armada and its heavy weapons. Let's find a place to dock…make field repairs."

With that, the Draco Gundam and Omega Gundam remerge into Cosmogundam configuration, blasting away just as more Titans MS and warships enter the area.

* * *

The region between L3 and L5 orbit has been, since the early U.C. 0080s, been unofficially designated as the Sargasso Zone…as its name suggests, an orbital wasteland.

A quarter centurion of cosmic war has left the Earth Sphere littered with literally billions of tons of wreckage floating dead in space. Despite efforts by Earth Federation, Zeon, and Shambala authorities to recycle/incinerate this refuse, its vast quantities assured that the process would require many decades.

Aside from the occasional industrial salvage craft, few venture into the Sargasso Zone. Military and civilian spacecraft alike avoid it, as the copious debris makes for hazardous travel. Traffic lanes between L3 and L5 are typically routed around it.

As such, it's the perfect place of concealment for the seven warships, two dozen mobile suits, and approximately one-thousand personnel and crew that represent what remains of the non-Titans-affiliated Earth Federation Forces and SNRI.

The sea of floating refuse and Minovsky particles create the ideal camouflage for the Federation/SNRI Force. The Titans and Crossbones Vanguard Forces will not be able to find them easily amidst the debris. To ensure that they do not give away their position, Col. Christina McKenzie of SNRI has ordered that all external lighting on all ships be kept dark, and that electronics communications of all kinds (including intercom) be kept silent.

Before the fleet shut down its communications systems, however, it had received disturbing information over the Titans' communications band: Side 7's Colony 2 has been completely destroyed…no survivors.

Colony 2, housing the Green Glen community…over 750,000 lives…

* * *

The Federation/SNRI Forces are, truth be told, nothing much more than a skeleton force…even with Major Jolie Minh-Miguel and her powerful White Phoenix Gundam. The odds of mounting a successful counterstrike against the amassed Titans Forces in the L3 Zone comprising Side 7 and Luna 2 are nil.

Nevertheless, it is the only hope that the Earth Federation as they have known it can survive and reclaim its sovereignty.

And then, there is the question of priorities…

* * *

01:44, Ship's Time, a conference room aboard the darkened _Amuro Ray_…

"We're going to launch a commando assault on Luna-2," Col. Christina McKenzie announces.

Seated with the commanding officer of SNRI at the conference table on Deck 6 of the non-Titans-aligned Federation's last operating mobile battle carrier are Commodore Beecher Olech, commanding officer of the vessel, and Major Jolie Minh-Miguel, Major Eric Gardner, and Captain Chieming Noah of the Centurion Special Operations Team.

"Ma'am, I take the liberty of pointing out that there are three million people, mostly civilians, at Green Oasis…plus thousands of our troops at Garrison Noah," Chieming interjects tersely, "As officers of the Earth Federation Forces, our first duty is to their safety and freedom."

"In principle, I agree, Captain," Col. Christina McKenzie replies earnestly, "but under the circumstances, we need to look at the situation through a lens of military priorities and the reality of our limitations. We're a small force…calling us a _skeleton _force would be, frankly, generous, and we're up against a Titans force whose full strength that at the very least, is a hundred times greater than ours and that has backing from the Shambala Republic. If we mount an assault on Side 7, we'll likely be massacred…not only by the relatively smaller force they have at Garrison Noah, but the troops they have amassed at Luna 2. Our best bet is a sabotage assault on Luna 2 – destroy it to deny them a stronghold in this sector and maybe take out a significant part of their power base."

Commodore Beecher Olech turns Chieming, "Chieming, we understand how you feel. Your parents are also my friends, but if Bright were here with us right now, he'd tell us to forget about Side 7 and go after Luna-2. If we don't take the Titans' base down at Luna-2, then, the Federation as we've known it is finished."

"The Feder…" Chieming begins, but Major Eric Gardner quiets her by taking her hand in his, putting a finger over his faintly smiling lips, and shaking his head gently.

Col. McKenzie rises, giving all of her subordinates a severe, withering look of unwavering authority, "The discussion is over. We'll reconvene at 08:00 to coordinate an assault plan against Luna-2."

Chieming is about to say something more, but Eric gently tugs her away. Chieming glares daggers at Eric.

Listening and observing quietly, but having offered no remarks at all, is Major Jolie Minh-Miguel. She sits at her place at the desk, regarding her colleagues through narrowed, weary eyes…unlit cigarette rolling about loosely between her lips.

As he leaves the conference room, Major Gardner turns back briefly to give Jolie a quick, surreptitious wink, unnoticed by either Col. McKenzie or Commodore Beecher, who have already begun to discuss plans for the commando strike against Luna-2.

Jolie extracts the unlit cigarette from her lips, places it back in its package in her uniform jacket pocket, and rises to leave the room without a word.

* * *

Space docks have been a booming industry since the dawn of the Universal Century era, over a century earlier. Clearly a necessity if humankind were to live in the cosmos, the docks grew larger and elaborate up through the beginning of the One Year War – capable of servicing space vehicles and mecha of every conceivable shape, size, and disposition. Anaheim Enterprises, the Buch Concern, the Luo Corporation, and a half dozen other tech sector conglomerates each fielded thousands of these space docks throughout the Earth Sphere and Mars and Jupiter orbit prior up to the late U.C. 0070s.

Many of these space docks were destroyed during the nearly quarter century of warfare that ensued after U.C. 0079. Some were rebuilt or replaced in the years that followed, but many more were abandoned…some completely useless, others partly functional. The functional ones were, by and large salvaged and returned to service, but large numbers of such docks continued to be left to drift neglected in obscure orbital paths…lost, anonymous articles of space debris.

It is to one of these half-functional, abandoned space docks just outside the orbit of Side 6 that Christian Ray and Jo-M have retreated with the Cosmogundam, now separated into separate Omega Gundam and Draco Gundam units, to repair the Omega Gundam's damaged Biosensor unit.

Jo-M extracts the unit from its nacelle deep within the head unit of the Omega Gundam as Christian pries apart the clamp mechanism that holds the Biosensor component in place. The two youths examine the unit gravely, but Jo-M brightens as its condition becomes evident to her.

"Some of these components are burned out," Jo tells Christian, "but the materials to repair or replace them are available here at this space dock."

"Yeah," Christian sighs morosely, "but I'm sort of wondering whether or not we should."

Jo-M replies evenly, "We won't last long against our enemies without it."

"You're right," Christian says glumly, examining the piece more closely to gain a more precise evaluation of the repairs needed, "With the power that we have, we have to expect that everybody is going to want to control us…to use us. We have to be ready for that, but…"

"You're unhappy because of what happened to that colony," Jo-M observes.

"We killed thousands of people, Jo," Christian says, his voice choked, "They didn't deserve that."

"They didn't," Jo agrees, "but it was an accident."

"We can't let it happen again," Christian resolves, "We don't want to hurt anybody unnecessarily."

"And that's even more a reason that we must repair this Biosensor unit," Jo-M says reassuringly, "If it functions properly, it'll help us gain better control of our abilities…so that we won't cause any more unnecessary deaths."

"'Unnecessary deaths,'" Christian smirks bitterly, "If you ask me, Jo, every death that's resulted from these wars has been unnecessary."

"I never questioned any of it before," Jo-M confesses, "Lady Minerva only told me to believe in her…to carry out her directives. I didn't question anything she told me…I didn't see a reason to…or know how. But since I met you…"

Christian smiles, taking Jo into his embrace, gently stroking her long, fine black hair "I've ruined you, haven't I?"

"You've opened me to the world," Jo replies warmly.

Their lips lock in a long, deep and passionate kiss. Christian runs his fingers along the smooth warmth of the back of Jo's thighs, drinking in the delightful sensation.

* * *

In Major Eric Gardner's private quarters on Deck 7 of the _Amuro Ray_, Chieming shoves Eric…_hard_…with both hands.

"How could you?" Chieming screams, tears running down her youthful, silk-smooth cheeks, "You're just as heartless as the rest of them! What if that were your mother and father at Side 7, Eric?"

Eric nods sympathetically, his demeanor as unflappable as ever, "I'd be worried sick."

"I thought that of all people, I could count on you!" Chieming continues, "We're gonna be married in a few months, Eric! If I can't count on you to help me protect my family, then how the hell can I count on you for anything else?"

Eric nods again, "You're right. You wouldn't be able to."

"I hate you!" Chieming snarls, pounding on Eric's chest again, "You're a coward! You're a liar! You…!"

Eric takes Chieming's pounding fists gently, but firmly into his own strong, dexterous hands…and he silences her angry rants with a quiet, but effective, "May I say something?"

Chieming's silence is her sign of approval.

Eric says gently, "I want to tell you a story. A true story about a kid who, before he was old enough to shave, was hauled off by the Titans as a POW. It happened near the old Federation capital at Dakar back during the final weeks of the Gryps Conflict…"

* * *

_Eighteen years earlier…_

_A massive explosion destroys the front entrance of a building, knocking the terrified, fleeing mass of humanity off their feet. A boy of seven searches desperately, but fruitlessly for his parents._

_

* * *

_

"…I couldn't find my parents anywhere. I feared the worst…that those Titans pigs had murdered them…"

Cheiming gasps softly and touches his hand as he sighs heavily.

"What happened then?" she asks softly.

Eric continues with a lump in his throat, "I picked up the nearest handgun I could find…and aimed it right at an officer who took delight in slaughtering the prisoners his troops brought to him. I'd never killed anyone before, Chieming, but before I could shoot him…I was knocked out…"

* * *

_The boy is thrown into a dark, vermin-infested jail cell, blind with rage. _

"_You'll be here until you're an old man, boy," a cold voice says from behind the heavy alloyed door, "assuming you make it to old age."_

_Young Eric Gardner has little reason to make that assumption. Days that feel like months pass with agonizing monotony. Then, on the…one-hundred and sixth? (he had lost count)…day of his captivity, the sensitive-eared boy hears unfamiliar footsteps coming towards his cell._

_Eric hears a voice – a man's voice - unknown, but reassuringly warm and human to his ears, "What the hell has this Federation come to? A kid your age shouldn't be in a place like this. You got a family, kid?" _

"_I did," the boy spits out savagely, "You Titans butchers killed them…remember?"_

_The officer on the other side of the metal door replies regretfully, "I wasn't there when it happened. How did you end up like this?"_

It's a trick, _Eric tells himself_, just like in those cop or spy movies. Good cop, bad cop…wear you down and then get you to talk…but I'm not giving in to these bastards…then again, this might be the only chance I get…to let the world know that I was here…that all this happened…

"_Hey, Mister," Eric says at last, "Can I tell you something…?"_

_

* * *

_

"I told the new officer everything I know about the incident. He wasn't like the other Titans. He didn't treat me like a prisoner. He didn't treat me like an animal. He treated me like a human being. He treated me like a man. He seemed to be a kind and caring man, totally out of place with those pigs. He told me that he had a daughter a few years younger than me, and that she looked up to him. He wore their colors, Chieming, but he wasn't one of them."

* * *

_The days and nights drag on interminably; nearly a year has passed since Eric became a prisoner of war. Such isolation and terror would result in dementia in men thrice Eric's age, but Eric struggles against such encroachments upon his sanity with vivid, detailed imaginings of glorious adventures among heroes of true valor…._

_The youth's ruminations are disturbed by a faint, almost ghostly popping noise the distance._

Sounds like… gunshots, _Eric concludes, _those pigs must be getting ready for an execution!

_The noise grows slowly, ominously louder. His curiosity having become irresistible, Eric creeps stealthily towards the barred window to a sight that causes him to momentarily wonder if he isn't still lost in one of his fantasies: a full-fledged mobile suit battle taking place on the streets of Dakar! _

_The Federation's capital is under attack! _

Are they AEUG, or Zeon? _Eric wonders. He risks another glance out the window._

_To the youth's horror, a free-falling piece of debris bears down on him menacingly, threatening to crush him under its weight!_

_Eric dives towards the opposing wall of his tiny cell as the prison compound begins to cave in. For the first time in a long, long time, sunlight touches his hair and face. _

_Checking himself and noting that all limbs are intact, Eric glances skyward, spotting two Asshimar mobile armor units holding their positions over the city. _

_Turning his head to the left in response to the telltale sound of whirring gears and hydraulic gyros, Eric finds himself awed by the sight of two AEUG mobile suits… one of them mounting a stylized golden v-fin on its head._

_My God, _Eric gapes, _"that's the Zeta Gundam!'_

_

* * *

_

"That was the beginning of the end for the Titans," Chieming remarks, "the Battle of Dakar. Uncle Amuro fought in that battle along with Camille Vidan."

"Yeah," Eric affirms, "Char's speech was the turning point of that conflict…and it proved to be a turning point for me too."

* * *

"_MOM! DAD! YOU'RE ALIVE!" Eric exults, running into the embrace of his parents._

_The Titans officer who befriended Eric, now revealed to be a slightly-built, pleasant-looking Asian man of about thirty years of age, informs Eric, "The Earth Federation Forces found them unwounded, but a bit shaken up. They've been in protective custody under Karaba supervision ever since. When I learned that their name was 'Gardner,' I made some inquiries and arranged to have them brought here." _

"_I can't thank you enough," Eric says, shaking the officer's hand tightly, "You know…you're too good a man to be one of them. You should abandon the Titans."_

"_You're probably right, kid," the officer says, removing his Titans beret and doffing his uniform jacket, folding the latter neatly as he continues, "When I was first recruited for this outfit, I had dreams of helping to establish a safer, more orderly world, but that's not what the Titans are about at all. I'm heading back to space…back to my wife and kids. You take care of yourself…and your folks. Nothing's more important than family, especially in crazy times like these."_

_The officer gives Eric a smile and a pat on the shoulder, and turns away._

"_Hey, man," Eric says after a moment, "You never did tell me your name."_

_The officer turns and with a chuckle, replies with a salute "Captain Dominic Minh, Earth Federation Forces, at your service, friend."_

_

* * *

_

Chieming smiles, "So it was Jolie's daddy?"

Eric returns the grin "Before he left…he gave me a picture of his lovely little daughter…Jolie. I actually first set eyes on her years before any of you did. Dominic showed me how each of us answers to something much more important than a flag or nation. We ultimately must all answer to our consciences. There's no higher authority than the conscience in each of us, and my conscience is telling me now that we can't leave your parents or the millions of others at Side 7 to an uncertain fate under the authority of the Titans."

Chieming's smile fades, and she sits back on Eric's bed, "I'm scared, Eric. Jolie's daddy saved your parents that time, but…"

Eric puts his hands comfortingly on Chieming's shoulders, "We're going to save them. All of them."

Chieming is momentarily confused, "But Col. McKenzie…"

"Christina has her hands tied," Eric says, "but we don't. Even if she can't support us…even if it means we have to act against the Federation, we're going to save Bright, Mirai, and the others, Chieming. If there's one thing I learned from Dominic Minh, it's that sometimes, being a good, loyal soldier means going against orders. Court-marital, dishonorable discharge, hell…execution. I'm willing to risk all that and more for you, Chieming…for your family…and for what's right in this universe."

Chieming's eyes brim with tears. She tries to say something, but no words come forth from her lips.

Eric extends his hand and gently caresses Chieming's silk-smooth cheeks; he lets her rest her head against his chest.

Passion overcomes the couple, and Eric's hand slips amorously behind the hem of Chieming's skirt to caress the smooth warmth of her firm, shapely thighs.

Momentarily, their bodies are as bare to one another as their souls as Eric tucks Chieming back upon his bed.

* * *

Hours later...

His fingers feast upon the soft warmth of her skin, greedily devouring its fine porcelain texture.

His eyes drink in the graceful curves of her feminine form, mesmerized to a point of sublime tranquility.

His ears imbibe of her soft, gentle moans…sweet sound in his ears.

Major Eric Gardner is in a sensual heaven…one that is fast approaching cosmic…when a sudden electronic trilling noise brings him crashing down to earthly reality.

"_Coitus interruptus," _Eric mutters, quickly rolling out of bed, throwing on his robe, and wiping an angry grimace off his face.

Major Jolie Minh's very pleasant visage appears on the communications monitor in Eric's private quarters; Jolie is dressed in her normalsuit and calling from a communications monitor station on the MS deck.

"Ready to move out in thirty minutes, Eric," Jolie says.

"Right, Major…" Eric says through clenched teeth.

Jolie peers over Eric's shoulder to a familiar feminine form concealed behind the bedsheets.

Jolie's eyes widen and the hint of a grin appears on her lips, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"What would make you think that?" Eric snarls.

"Sorry," Jolie says sheepishly, killing the link.

Eric turns to Chieming, who is attempting to control her giggles behind the back of her hand; she looks _adorable_.

"Jolie is a wonderful friend and an excellent soldier," Eric sighs, "but her sense of timing sucks to high heaven."

Chieming tumbles gracefully out of bed and dons her undergarments, and then begins slipping into her uniform as she replies, "I should have known she'd been in on the mutiny too."

"She'd never have forgiven us if we'd left her out of it," Eric replies, pulling on his boots.

Chieming places a hand on one hip and adopts a look of mock-jealousy, "You two had planned this out all beforehand, didn't you?"

Eric kisses Chieming tenderly on the forehead, "Wasn't trying to leave you out, babe…but you were too emotionally involved in it. No way you'd have been able to hold a poker face to Christina."

"You're right," Chieming confesses, "I didn't and wouldn't."

"Let's go," Eric says, taking Chieming's hand.

* * *

Eric and Chieming arrive on the darkened MS deck of the _Amuro Ray_ five minutes later, clad in their normalsuits. The service lights are illuminated around a half dozen MS being combat-prepped for imminent deployment, one of which is Major Jolie Minh-Miguel's White Phoenix Gundam.

Eric notes that his Strike Gundam is not among the MS being combat-prepped; his familiar mobile suit sits silently on its maintenance gantry, dark and unattended.

"Hey, what's up?" Eric inquires, "Why isn't the Strike Gundam being readied for deployment?"

"Because you aren't going to be deploying in it," Jolie answers, drifting towards Eric and Chieming, "You're going to be deploying in that instead."

Jolie points to the RX-780-2, the Centurion Gundam Unit 2, once the MS assignment of Captain Jonah Michaels (Miguel), previous commanding officer of the Centurion Team…and Jolie's late husband.

"You're serious?" Eric says, surprised, "You want me to deploy in the CG-2?"

"We're likely to see heavy commando combat," Jolie says plainly, donning her helmet, "The Strike Gundam isn't ideally suited for that function."

Eric becomes solemn, "I appreciate that, Jolie. I know it can't be easy for you to allow anyone to pilot that mobile suit…you haven't let anybody so much as breathe hard on it these past five years."

Jolie replies acidly as she ascends towards the cockpit of her own White Phoenix Gundam, "Just make sure you don't become the second man in its cockpit to leave behind a widow, Major Gardner."

* * *

Major Gardner boards the Centurion Gundam Unit 2's cockpit and straps himself in, running the idling combat systems through the standard pre-deployment checklist.

Gardner is familiar with the CG's combat systems and cockpit layout configuration, having occasionally piloted the Unit-1 before it was assigned to Christian Ray (and before Christian hijacked it for the Shambala Republic). Eric has never occupied the cockpit seat of the Unit-2, however. Jolie had never allowed anyone to board that cockpit. Eric figures that she must regard it as sacred. Understandable.

_She's serious when she says she doesn't want me to make a widow out of Chieming_, Eric reflects.

Major Eric Gardner is not a superstitious man. Never has he been one to believe in ghosts or the supernatural, and yet…Eric is acutely conscious that another man…a comrade-at-arms and friend…had _died _piloting this MS five years earlier. Even now, Eric senses…something…a familiar, unseen, unheard presence in the cockpit with him.

"Man, I've done some weird shit in my time," Eric mutters to himself as he continues bringing combat systems online, "but this is the first time I've ever piloted a haunted mobile suit."

* * *

The MS of the Centurion Special Operations Team line up on the launch catapult behind their unit leader, Major Jolie Minh-Miguel aboard her White Phoenix Gundam. Service crews begin to vacate the MS deck as launch crew personnel take over.

"This is Centurion Leader," Jolie calls from the cockpit, "Centurion Team units all prepare to move out: our objective is Garrison Noah."

The Centurion Team's MS swing out from the launch deck of the _Amuro Ray_, on an unauthorized mission to liberate space colony Side 7, the last bastion of the Earth Federation, from the cruel titanium grip of its own murderous spawn.

* * *

Col. Christina McKenzie receives word of the Centurion Team's unauthorized deployment scarcely a minute later.

The Director of SNRI/Special Forces rushes to the bridge of the _Amuro Ray_, where Commodore Beecher Olech is already monitoring the situation.

The attractive, auburn-haired Christina commandeers the communications station and opens a line to the White Phoenix Gundam, "Major Minh-Miguel: Col. McKenzie here. You and your personnel are not authorized to deploy. I order you and the Centurion Team to return to the _Amuro Ray _immediately."

Christina's orders are met with silence, and the diminishing lights of the Centurion Team's MS in the distance.

"Major Minh-Miguel…" Christina repeats, more tersely this time.

Silence.

"Ready all guns, Commodore," Christina says to Commodore Beecher reluctantly.

Beecher swallows, "All gun batteries. Prepare to fire on Centur…"

"Wait," Christina interjects.

Commodore Beecher begins again, "Gunnery crew: cancel that order."

Col. McKenzie leans forward and presses both hands down upon the forward navigational console, "Patch me through to the launch deck."

* * *

"We've got incoming at our six," Major Eric Gardner reports from the cockpit of the CG-2, "It's big, and it's coming fast. Closing at Mach 4."

"We can outrun it. Give us an ID scan," Jolie replies calmly, "All units: engage ECM and be ready to take evasive action."

"Incoming object at 90 kilometers and still closing. Speed constant," Eric announces as he runs the ID scan.

The incoming object does not register as any kind of known missile, but after a maddening few seconds of indecision, the computer positively identifies the object as…

"A Hyper Particle Beam Cannon!" Eric declares triumphantly.

"I knew Christina was one of us!" Chieming exults from the cockpit of her MS.

Jolie's voice issues through the communications network, "Major Gardner: initiate CG-2 supplemental weapons systems docking and integration protocol."

"Roger, Centurion Leader," Eric responds, "CG-2 supplemental weapons systems DI protocol commencing now."

The Hyper Particle Beam Cannon's automated retro thrusters kick in, slowing the massive weapon down as it approaches Major Gardner's Centurion Gundam.

Eric activates the CG-2's docking mechanisms to receive the weapon. With the assistance of a dozen gears, gyros, and stabilizers, the Hyper Particle Beam Cannon docks with the Centurion Gundam.

Col. McKenzie's pleasant, but stern visage appears on the monitor of Jolie's White Phoenix Gundam, "This is Col. McKenzie to Centurion Team: Godspeed, ladies and gentlemen."

"Col. McKenzie," Jolie replies with the flat, steady tone indicative of her complete focus on the mission at hand, "Ma'am: requesting that the _Amuro Ray _and the rest of the armada provide my team with cover fire during the entry operation."

"Granted," Christina answers.

"Roger that," Jolie replies, "Wait for our signal."

* * *

At the abandoned space dock, Christian and Jo-M quickly don their normalsuits after several sublimely lustful hours. Never had either of them ever experienced such intense carnal sensations- or such a complete openness of spirit in which no aspect of each other, be it physical or emotional, was left unrevealed to other.

Nevertheless, Jo-M feels it incumbent upon herself to verbalize her thoughts to her soulmate, "Christian…I owe my life to Lady Minerva. Even though we've vowed to set out on our own path and our own life…I feel that we should at least help her fulfill this one final mission."

Christian smiles as he seals the pressurization rings on his normalsuit, "You don't need to say it. I feel the same way. I feel it because you feel it. I do owe Minerva one…because without her, I could never have been with you."

Jo-M returns Christian's grin and kisses him sweetly on the cheek, a gesture Christian returns before saying, "It's in our interests to help Minerva and the Shambala Republic anyway. Those Titans are evil scum. We have to destroy them for the good of the world. Jolie Minh is a threat to us; as long as she lives, she'll be bent on destroying us, so we have to destroy her first."

"She was your friend," Jo-M observes, "She cared for you. Can you really…?"

"Jolie rejected me," Christian answers sullenly, "Just like my father did…just like the entire damned Earth Federation did. They don't need me…I don't need them…especially now that you're here. Jo…with you in this world, there doesn't need to be a Jolie Minh. You're better than her. You've surpassed her. You should be the true White Phoenix."

Jo-M blushes slightly, then dons her helmet, "Then it's decided: we destroy the Titans and Jolie Minh…"

"…and then, it's just you and me," Christian finishes, donning his own helmet, "Just us…in our own world."

* * *

Momentarily, the Omega Gundam and the Draco Gundam, Biosensor restored to operating condition, launch from the maintenance dock.

"Initiating Cosmogundam docking sequence," Jo-M announces.

"Roger. Systems aligning – docking in t-minus tens seconds," Christian affirms.

Gears and servos swivel and shift as the two Gundams combine into a single, supremely powerful unit…the Cosmogundam.

"Cosmogundam docking established," Jo-M affirms, "Course vector heading 8-11B9…intercept Titans Armada."

The Cosmogundam's mighty thrusters flare to life, propelling the ultimate war mecha to the field of combat.

* * *

The Shambala Republic Defense Fleet is marshalling just beyond the perimeter of the Side 3 Zone, taking up defensive formation around the heartland of the Shambala Republic.

At the head of the fleet is the converted warship _Mapother_, originally a large cargo ship, modified for combat functions.

In her private office aboard the _Mapother_, Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi-Noah contemplates the gold pocketwatch and chain in her cybernetic left hand…a watch her best friend Jolie had gifted to her some eight years ago…eight years that feel like eight lifetimes ago.

Minerva's flesh-and-blood right hand rests upon her abdomen protectively; momentarily, her husband and partner, SIA Director Hathaway Noah, offers her a loving kiss on the cheek and a much-needed rub on the back of her neck.

Hathaway whispers into Minerva's ear, "Jo and Christian have sent word; they're on their way."

"Good," Minerva replies, stroking her abdomen thoughtfully, "I expect this will be their last mission."

"You really think they'll leave?" Hathaway inquires, fondly stroking Minerva's soft, feathery blonde hair.

"That's their plan," Minerva replies somewhat wearily, "I won't try to stop them. I don't think I could…nor do I need to."

"You mean that in a literal sense," Hathaway observes, perceptive as ever.

Minerva sighs, "They and Jolie have become too dangerous. They're the most powerful beings in the world…living weapons of apocalypse, and as long as they live, they can be exploited by evil men…or succumb to their own ignorance and recklessness. Some weapons are too powerful for humankind to possess, Hathaway: the nuclear detonator, the Minovsky Particle, the mobile suit…the Newtype. My own family has exploited each of these and cost humanity billions of lives. Enough. It stops here."

"We created Jo-M," Hathaway points out, "and Jolie is your best friend. Are you really willing…?"

Minerva sighs, "Yes. It's regrettable, but there are more important considerations. We…created _her _as well, and I want her to be born into a world without war."

So saying, Minerva strokes her abdomen lovingly…as only a mother would.

Hathaway puts his hand on Minerva's, and their fingers intertwine warmly, "You're right…as always."

Their lips touch warmly, lovingly, as the future beckons.

* * *

The mobile suits of the Centurion Special Operations Team have penetrated the Side 7 perimeter and streak towards Green Oasis, site of Garrison Noah.

Major Jolie Minh-Miguel understands that stealth will avail them little…that subtlety is a luxury that they cannot afford, and thus, she orders Major Eric Gardner, "Centurion Two: ready Hyper Particle Beam Cannon to fire. Target: Titans' fuel tanker."

Moored about ten kilometers out from Green Oasis is a massive nuclear-powered fuel tanker that the Titans had brought with them to supply combat units with sufficient fuel for an extended operation. A massive vessel about a tenth the mass of a space colony itself, it is veritably a potential weapon of mass destruction if detonated.

According to Major Gardner's calculations, using the Hyper Particle Beam Cannon to detonate the fuel tanks of the vessel at this proximity to Green Oasis poses a considerable, but acceptable risk to the space colony. Depending on the trajectory of the explosion, Green Oasis could be knocked out of its orbit…or worse, but there's an equal chance that the colony would be minimally affected or even completely unaffected.

After a quick consultation with Col. Christina McKenzie, the decision was rendered: attack with Hyper Particle Beam Cannon.

"Energy charge on Hyper Particle Beam Cannon at 85% and rising," Major Gardner affirms, "Safety locks disengaged. Energy at saturation point…Hyper Particle Beam Cannon firing."

Pure hellfire erupts forth from the barrel of the mighty weapon, lancing forth in a cohesive beam towards the Titans' fuel ship.

The hyperaccelerated energy particles have an immediate and volatile effect upon the fuel ship, causing it to balloon forth in a hellaciously violent explosion.

* * *

The streets of Green Oasis City, until approximately two weeks ago a bustling and thriving metropolis, are devoid of pedestrians. Only the ominous presence of Titans MS and armed Titans troopers are visible on the avenues and boulevards of the city, the mecha towering over all but the tallest buildings, sinisterly vigilant for any sign of unauthorized activity.

The millions of people who reside in Green Oasis City have been holed up in their homes for the past ten days, under a state of perpetual curfew and martial law, enforceable at the end of a gun, "for their own protection," according to the Titans authorities. Under absolutely no circumstances are the residents of the city allowed to leave their shelters, being told by the authorities that they would be released when they are to be released.

Green Oasis City has been a place where few words other than barked commands have been heard in recent days. Questions are typically answered by automatic rifle butts and, in more than a few cases, rifle barrels…understandable questions such as, "What's inside those canisters you've placed on the streets?"

The deafening booms of mobile suits' footfalls upon pavement are accompanied by vibrations that threaten to shake the city's buildings off their foundations. The streets and the structures that stand upon them were not built for the stress of mobile suits constantly ambulating near them.

The Titans' mobile suits are heavy, sturdy machines…veritable anthropomorphic battleships easily capable of standing their ground against impacts that would level skyscrapers.

The concussion power that suddenly slams into Green Oasis colony, however, topples dozens of them, sending them tumbling to the pavement as if they were mammoth bowling pins.

A general alarm sounds across the space colony as Titans personnel, ships, and mecha scramble to combat status.

A glance outside the massive solar panel windows of the colony would be sufficient to confirm what is already being transmitted through the Titans' military communications band: a fuel ship has exploded, causing massive damage to Titans warships and logistical vessels moored near Side 7…

The shockwave of the explosion soon reaches Green Oasis colony itself, rocking the colony with a force unrivaled by any terrestrial quake…

* * *

"The shockwave just hit Green Oasis, Jolie," Major Gardner reports, his entire body bathed in sweat, "Ma'am, it's moving!"

Sure enough, Green Oasis begins to move…just slightly.

"Jolie!" Chieming cries out, her heart pumping like a motor piston.

Jolie's eyes flash, and a spark rips forth from her helmeted head.

Green Oasis lurches, then stops…settling back into its assigned orbit.

Jolie contacts the bridge of the _Amuro Ray_, "Col. McKenzie…Commodore Beecher…now! While they're still reeling from the destruction of the fuel tanker!"

"Roger that, Major Minh-Miguel," comes the response from the _Amuro Ray_'s bridge.

The remainder of the SNRI fleet, a half dozen warships, swivel the turrets of their primary and secondary gun batteries towards the Titans Armada, a few of which are deployed, but many of which have been damaged by the explosion of the fuel tanker. Beam cannon, missile barrages…all erupt at once towards the already disoriented Titans' fleet.

Jolie shouts to her teammates, "Go! Go! Go! We've only got a few minutes before they recover and strike back!"

The Centurion Team needs no other prompting. Responding to hundreds of hours of training and, in the case of the veterans, an even greater amount of time in actual combat, the SNRI troops and their mobile suits penetrate and invade Green Oasis Colony like early 20th Century American G-Men busting a hideout in gangland. The Centurions' MS burst into the space colony that until recently, served as their headquarters. The SNRI MS vengefully blitzkrieg every Titan MS and troop carrier in sight, exacting justice for lost comrades-at-arms.

Even so, the SNRI Forces are outnumbered fourteen-to-one, and they have one significant limitation that the Titans do not…

"Careful!" Jolie admonishes her subordinates, "There are civilians up and down these streets…in the buildings!"

The SNRI MS take to the streets, valiantly fighting to overcome their enemies while at the same time, not endanger the scores of civilians confined in their homes and businesses. In the chaos and confusion of the moment, large numbers of these civilians begin rushing forth from their shelters into the streets, compounding the danger.

The opposing Titans MS are predominantly of two varieties, the shock trooper TS-03 Amsträger and the swift, airmobile TS-06 Dolch. Jolie glimpses a more uncommon third model…clearly superior to the two more common types and perhaps equal to a Gundam in overall power output, maneuverability, resilience, and firepower...something reminiscent of the Federation's own Cour de Leon series MS, once favored by Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz and now piloted by Captain Chieming Noah.

From seemingly nowhere, a designation code and nomenclature materialize in Jolie's mind: _TS-10 Drachenherz._

_

* * *

_

Col. Mongke Blameernorgh (nicknamed "Col. Blam" by his troops, though never thus addressed directly), the Titans' field operations commander at Side 7, strides towards a TS-10S Drachenherz Strike unit being combat-prepped at the same MS deck in Garrison Noah previously assigned to SNRI's Centurion Team.

The pilot of the Drachenherz Strike is Major Klaus "Crusher" Crenshaw, age forty-five and veteran of three wars. A young Earth Federation Forces ace pilot during the One Year War who had first proved his prowess during the Odessa Campaign on Earth and the assaults on Solomon and A Bao a Qu Fortresses, Crenshaw continued to serve as an MS pilot for the first incarnation of the Titans under Col. Bosque Om's command during the Gryps Conflict.

Crenshaw's commanding officers have long recognized him as an excellent warrior and gifted MS pilot (a Newtype, as later confirmed by the Augusta Research Center), but military psychologists also pegged Crenshaw as a headcase…particularly, as sadist who delighted in the amount of pain he could inflict upon an enemy. He gained the nickname "Crusher" for this defect of his personality…and for his preferred method of finishing off an enemy.

The perfect warrior for the ranks of the Titans.

Spotting his commanding officer, Crenshaw salutes, "Col. Blameernorgh, sir!"

Col. Blam returns the salute and says coldly, "Major Crenshaw: I want you to know that you have General Blackhead's and my authorization to use any and all necessary methods to put down this act of gross insubordination and insurrection by SNRI. They're traitors, Major, and they are to be punished as traitors."

Crenshaw grins with wolfish anticipation as he salutes, "Understood, sir."

Momentarily, Crenshaw is lifted to the cockpit of his modified TS-10S Drachenherz Strike…a machine designed with murder in mind.

Crenshaw brings the nuclear fusion engine of his MS to life, then brings combat systems online. The dual camera unit "eyes" of the Drachenherz Strike begin to glow a baleful green.

Crenshaw opens the communications network to his squad…handpicked ace pilots aboard Dolch-S units, nicknamed "Black Dragons."

"This is Crenshaw," the Major says in his characteristic growl, "Street party. Party favors on us."

The Black Dragons pilots grin knowingly at an apparently innocuous phrase whose coded true meaning is known only to them.

* * *

The Centurion Team and other SNRI units continue their intense firefight against the Titans Corps on the streets of Side 7. Despite SNRI's best efforts, casualties have begun to amount among the civilian population. Casualties already number in the hundreds, and Jolie fears that number could grow exponentially before she and her comrades can sweep the Titans out of the colony.

Aboard the Centurion Gundam Unit-2 and a Cour de Leon, Eric and Chieming battle their way inexorably towards an objective on a synthetic turf hill in the distance, still three kilometers away – the Presidential Residence…

* * *

Inside the Presidential Residence, President Mirai Yashima-Noah (who surprisingly still holds that title, although she imagines not for much longer) of the Earth Federation Government and her husband, General Bright Noah of the Earth Federation Forces can only watch…and wait.

Since the beginning of their captivity more than a week ago, the couple has been treated surprisingly mildly by their Titans captors. They have generally been free to move about the confines of their home, albeit always under the supervision of watchful, heavily armed guards. Despite overt and implied threats of violence should they attempt to resist, so far, the Noahs have been spared any actual harm by their captors.

"They're afraid of us," Bright reassured his wife on the second day of their captivity, "They know that they have nothing to offer but brutality."

The Presidential Residence is soundproofed, but Bright and Mirai can feel the impact and vibrations of the battle coming closer…and that horrible concussion that had knocked both of them off their feet a few minutes before the vibrations began. Something is happening out there…

Their thoughts turn to the younger of their two children…Chieming…

_Mom…Dad…_

Mirai "hears" it first, and then, so does Bright.

_Chieming…_Mirai thinks back to her daughter…_Chieming, we're in the Presidential Residence!_

Her daughter responds, _We're coming for you, Mom…for you and Daddy. Just hang in there a few more minutes!_

Chieming's thoughts turn to her fiancé Eric, _Eric…Mom and Dad…they're…_

_Inside the Presidential Residence_, Eric thinks back, _I know. I just "heard."_

The realization dawns on Chieming that she had heard Eric in her mind…not through her ears. The idea warms her heart…

_It must be Jolie_, Eric concludes, _she's boosting all of our latent Newtype sensitivities._

_

* * *

_

The vibrations grow more intense within the Presidential Residence, finally distracting the guards sent to confine President and General Noah.

"Now, Mirai!" Bright bellows.

More than twenty years ago, Bright and Mirai had fought side-by-side as part of the crew of the _White Base_. More than once, their ship was invaded by enemy Zeon troops, forcing them to fight against their enemies hand-to-hand. Recent years have been quieter…with fewer occasions to bodily struggle against foemen, but neither Bright nor Mirai's combat instincts have deserted them after these many long years…

Bright dives towards legs of the nearest Titans' guardsman, a youth likely younger than his own youngest child, Chieming, and brings him crashing to the ground. As the youth falls, Mirai wrenches his weapon out of his hand, firing in an arc to take down the two other guardsmen assigned to secure them.

Bright knocks out the youth that he has wrestled to the ground with a solid punch directly to the face, then draws a concussion grenade from the young man's utility belt.

"Mirai! Take cover!" Bright shouts.

Mirai reflexively obeys, diving behind the shelter of the kitchen's concrete central counter as Bright chucks the grenade.

The concussion takes down the remaining guardsmen, as well as one of the exterior walls of the Presidential Residence.

Behind a veil of smoke, Mirai and Bright hear the telltale heavy sounds of two mobiles suits' armored footfalls.

Mirai points her commandeered weapon skyward, as futile as she knows it would be against a mobile suit.

The veil of smoke clears to reveal the comforting, familiar forms of the Centurion Gundam Unit-2 and Cour de Leon, which leave the smoldering wreckage of a half dozen Titans' MS behind them as they approach the President and the General.

* * *

At the same moment, Jolie and the rest of the Centurion Team are making headway against the Titans' MS army. Despite their far smaller numbers, SNRI is riding the superiority of the White Phoenix Gundam and Jolie's piloting skill to put the Titans on their heels.

To watch the White Phoenix Gundam in action is to witness warfare rendered into poetry; the ultimate war machine moves with a lightness, grace, and lightning-swiftness that belies its heavily armored mass. Its deployment of weaponry is precise and efficient, striking down enemy after enemy without endangering the civilians that still teem about the combat zone, with a flare and grace that seem to indicate that its pilot is putting on a show for an audience, although such thoughts are far from Jolie's mind.

But an ominous pressure bears down on Jolie…suffocating, oppressive. She glances skyward and sees an arriving flight of fresh Titans' mobile suits…not the Amsträgers or standard Dolchs that she has been dispatching with ease, but a dozen upgraded Dolch-S units and a Drachenherz-type, descending in battle formation across the city.

"SNRI, evasive maneuvers!" Jolie orders.

Aboard his Drachenherz-S, Major Klaus Crenshaw sneers, "White Phoenix, eh? I want these people watch me crush you along with their hopes!"

So saying, Crenshaw opens up with a heavy barrage of beam fire that Jolie deftly blocks with the White Phoenix Gundam's arm-mounted shield. Jolie's eyes flash with alarm as Crenshaw's Drachenherz streaks in from behind the cloud of resultant smoke and sparks to bear down upon the WPG with its beam saber tip extended before itself.

Jolie turns the blow aside with a swipe from the WPG's own beam saber, then directs her mobile suit in a wheeling kick that catches the Drachenherz across the head/camera unit and send the Titans' MS crashing on its back.

Crenshaw curses as his MS goes down. Never in his three-decade combat piloting career has he been so humiliated…

Crenshaw rapidly brings the Drachenherz back to its feet for a second strike against the WPG, but then, a more devilishly appealing idea enters his imagination.

Smiling his wolfish smile, Crenshaw issues the order to his men, "Black Dragons…time for party favors…"

Responding to that order, the Black Dragons begin opening fire...on every civilian structure, vehicle, and individual in sight!

The carnage is devastating and quick…within seconds, hundreds have been slain in a scene of complete pandemonium. The streets of Side 7 run red in blood, stained by fire, smoke, and tears…the sound of explosions and crumbling rubble punctuated by screams of terror and pain.

Crenshaw laughs.

2Lt. Rayann Zhang, aboard her Jet Jegan Strike, spots a family of four on the run from a Dolch-S that is toying with them by spraying gatling cannon fire at their heels.

In that family, Rayann sees her own…her father, mother, and older sister Rainie, all (hopefully) still safe and sound in her home colony of Emerald Rod at Side 5. All of her life, Rayann's goal in life was to be a part of something greater than herself…to stand up for justice and protect the innocent. It is for that reason that she left home at age sixteen to join the Earth Federation Forces and worked hard to qualify as a Special Forces cadet, finally serving under the command of her childhood heroine, Major Jolie Minh-Miguel. It was to such ideals as justice and compassion that Rayann had dedicated her life…

Rayann launches forward in her Jet Jegan Strike, diving at the Dolch-S with her mobile suit's weapons blazing.

"Rayann…wait!" her longtime friend and wingman, 2Lt. Amy Chu cries out from her own Jet Jegan.

"2Lt. Zhang, don't!" Jolie cautions, her hands full with a dozen Dolch-S units that stand between the WPG and Rayann's Jet Jegan Strike.

Rayann succeeds in downing the Dolch-S terrorizing the fleeing family, but the maneuver exposes her to a sudden attack by Major Crenshaw's Dragonherz.

The Titans' ace drives his mobile suit's beam saber deep into the center of Rayann's mobile suit…just below the cockpit. The maneuver is coordinated not to detonate the Federation MS's nuclear fusion engine…or to disintegrate Rayann, but to roast her alive.

Rayann feels her skin burning inside the cockpit of her MS…her blood boiling from more than anger. She screams in horrible, horrible pain.

Heat is replaced by impact as the Dragonherz smashes her Jet Jegan into the pavement, then slams on the Centurion Team MS's cockpit hatch with the bottom of its armored foot, bringing its full weight to bear.

Rayann feels every bone in her body breaking, her internal organs being squeezed to implosion by the ever-increasing pressure.

_Mom…Dad…Sis…..Kevin…I…love…all…of…you_, Rayann has time to think before death mercifully overcomes her.

"_**RAYANN!**_" Amy screams, her eyes blinded with tears, her heart breaking.

Over the external speakers of his Dragonherz, Major Klaus "Crusher" Crenshaw sneers once again, "This is the fate that awaits those foolish enough to challenge the authority of the Titans and the Earth Federation. We are the giants of this world, and you…you are all insects!"

Jolie's teeth clench and a horrible, horrible rage builds inside her…her eyes glow dangerously red, and her grip nearly snaps the control sticks of the WPG!

* * *

Two years ago, Major Jolie Minh-Miguel had recruited Cadet Rayann Zhang from the Earth Federation Forces Officer's Academy. Rayann was a friend of Amy Chu's, who'd Jolie had first encountered on Earth during the war against Alexander Miguel, but that would not be enough to secure Rayann consideration for Special Forces duty. The Special Forces were the best of the best, and if Rayann were to join their ranks, she would need to prove her mettle.

…and prove it she did. Rayann's talents were certainly above average – she had been among the top officers in her graduating class at the academy, but her success was as much a product of her sheer determination and courage as it was her substantial gifts. Rayann Zhang wanted to fight alongside heroes…she wanted to be a hero herself, and finally won Jolie's trust and a coveted place among the Federation's finest after passing a rigorous series of tests that included combat campaigns in space and on the ruined Earth against the remnants of Zeon.

Jolie remembers greeting Rayann's parents and older sister when they came to visit during the previous year's holidays, and seeing in them reflections of her own family, so long lost to her. Jolie both envied and admired Rayann for being able to maintain a family through the chaos of war.

Jolie remembers late night conversations with Rayann on subjects as wide-ranging as mobile suit combat experiences…and experiences with lovers. Rayann had left behind a tumultuous relationship with a boyfriend, Kevin was his name, to join the Federal Forces…and Rayann's anecdotes about their experiences often recalled to Jolie's mind her own relationship with her late husband, Jonah.

Rayann was always dutiful and compliant, but she also demonstrated initiative and drive. Jolie saw in Rayann a younger sister…a sort of kindred spirit.

Now she's gone…gone just like her parents…like Jonah…like so many others Jolie has loved…literally had the life crushed out of her by a monster who wears the skin and flesh of a man…

"_You haven't been half-trying…" _Dr. Camille Vidan's words haunt Jolie, "_You've been holding back because you're afraid to use your full power. You're scared of what might happen if you allowed yourself to really cut loose and unleash your full potential."_

Jolie sees an image of her husband Jonah on his deathbed, five years earlier, the promise he asked of her…"_Use your great gifts…protect them._"

* * *

The sound of Crenshaw's taunts and mad laughter fill Jolie's ears.

Jolie's eyes burn with horrible, vengeful retribution as a growl welling up from deep within her finally explodes into a terrible, inhuman scream…a battle cry… "**YARRRGGHHHHHH!"**

The White Phoenix Gundam surges forth, its entire arsenal deployed!

The first Dolch-S falls as the WPG's beam saber dices it into a dozen fragments with a swift series of slashes. Before it drops, the WPG has crushed a second Dolch-S by barreling into it with a bent knee. A massive barrage of beam fire downs six more in one sweep, while a simultaneous volley of missiles drop five more approaching Amsträger mobile suits.

The remainder of the Centurion Team attempts to join the battle…to avenge their fallen comrade and assist their commanding officer, but they find themselves unable to enter the fray. The White Phoenix Gundam has become much more than a superior combat mobile suit operated by a gifted ace pilot…it is an elemental force of retributive violence animated by an enraged demigoddess.

Like a tidal wave, they come, dozens upon dozens of Titans' mobile suits, and as quickly as they arrive, they fall…engulfed by the unrelenting rage of the maddened White Phoenix…

* * *

Nearby, Captain Chieming Noah has debarked from her mobile suit and embraces her mother. Her fiancé, Major Eric Gardner, salutes and shakes the hand of Chieming's father, General Bright Noah.

"Sir," Eric says as he salutes, "Major Eric Gardner reporting, General. We're here to liberate you, sir."

"Well done, Major," Bright says with a smile, shaking the younger man's hand, "Now that we're free, our next priority is…"

Bright's words are interrupted by a terrible noise and concussion coming from the central district of Green Oasis City, some five kilometers away from their present location. The city has become a blazing inferno, with mass explosions, fire, and smoke erupting seemingly everywhere.

"Let's go!" Bright orders, "We have to find out what's happening there!"

Bright boards the Centurion Gundam-2 with Eric, and Mirai likewise boards her daughter's Cour de Leon. Momentarily, they streak towards the center of the city.

* * *

The history of warfare is replete with oddities of singular acts by extraordinary individuals who appear to be an army unto themselves. The ancient Greeks had their legends of Achilles during the Trojan War. During the 20th Century, "super-soldiers" such as the famed Sergeant York, Audie Murphy, Simo Haya, and "Mad Jack" Churchill became the stuff of legend by personally fighting off dozens upon dozens of enemy soldiers and walking away completely unharmed.

More recent in history was Amuro Ray's singlehanded takedown of twelve mobile suits in one six-minute melee during the One Year War…a battle that even two decades later remains the stuff of modern folklore.

His legendary performance has been surpassed…sevenfold.

The White Phoenix Gundam, with hardly a mark on it, stands poised for battle…its weapons systems all exhausted and empty, except for a beam saber that still has seven minutes' charge remaining.

Behind it lie the broken remains of _**eighty-two **_Titans mobile suits…Amsträgers, Dolch-S and Dolch standards, Hizacks, Marasais, and Barzams.

All eighty-two dispatched by the White Phoenix Gundam…

Those who witnessed the carnage can scarcely believe their senses: one mobile suit had singly destroyed eighty-two others…destroyed them with utter ease, and with a vengefulness that was truly frightening.

That fear now grips the heart of Major Klaus "Crusher" Crenshaw, whose face is pale and bathed in cold sweat as he backs his mobile suit away in terror, "N-no! Don't come near me!"

In the cockpit of the White Phoenix Gundam, the furious red glow has not left Major Jolie Minh-Miguel's eyes. Her teeth are locked in a rictus of animalistic fury, and a bestial growl emanates from her throat.

That growl once more explodes into a terrifying battle cry as the White Phoenix Gundam surges forth again.

The WPG embeds its beam saber in a nearby fallen Amsträger as it charges towards Crenshaw's Drachenherz, felling the Titans' mobile suit. The WPG then begins pummeling the other mobile suit with its mighty armored fists, and with a series of cruel flips, twists, chops, and assorted blows, systematically disables its limbs.

Inside the cockpit of the Drachenherz, Crenshaw is battered, bloodied, and exhausted. His heart is filled with hatred and a desire to strike back, but his body is too terribly wounded to comply.

_S-she's not human_, Crenshaw has time to think, _She's…she's some kind of war demon…some kind of vengeful spirit…_

Such are Crenshaw's final thoughts as the WPG's fist comes surging through the reinforced armored cockpit of the Drachenherz.

The WPG has the limbless, headless Drachenherz helpless on its back amidst of the rubble of Green Oasis City. Crenshaw is little more than a bloody pulp unrecognizable as a man…and still, the WPG rams its armored fist into the hollow cavity where the cockpit module of the Drachenherz rested mere moments earlier, striking harder and harder…a dozen times…two dozen times…more furiously…with greater force in each strike. The WPG's metalshod fist breaks away, and still the mobile suit continues striking.

"_**RRRRRRR! YAHHHHHH!**"_ Jolie screams…unable to stop herself.

"Ohmigod! She's gone crazy!" Captain Chieming Noah cries out in horror as her Cour de Leon and Major Eric Gardner's Centurion Gundam-2 alight.

"Eric! Chieming! Stop her!" General Noah orders, "At this rate, she'll destroy what's left of the city!"

The CG-2 and Cour de Leon each attempt to grab hold of the WPG's shoulders, but the more powerful MS simply shrugs them off. Taking a moment to engage their thrusters and gather themselves and make a second attempt, Eric and Chieming find themselves joined by the dozen or so remaining SNRI MS, all attempting valiantly to dogpile the WPG and keep it suppressed…all in vain as the WPG throws them off as if they were rag dolls.

"We can't stop her!" Chieming laments.

The WPG turns towards its SNRI allies, who back away cautiously as the WPG stalks ominously towards them.

"One chance," Eric says through clenched teeth as he initiates the PSI-Gundam interlock system.

A sensor aboard the WPG responds the signal, momentarily taking manual control out of Jolie's hands as the WPG readies itself for docking…

The WPG and CG-2 merge into the PSI-Gundam…the first time they have done so since the penultimate battle of the Phobos War.

"PSI-Gundam systems online," an electronic voice chimes.

All wait in nervous anticipation.

The PSI-Gundam does not move.

In the combined cockpit of the PSI-Gundam, Major Eric Gardner unstraps himself from the safety restraints to lower himself into Jolie's command cockpit station, where she continues to finger the controls of the WPG.

Eric opens the cockpit hatch and unstraps Jolie from the cockpit seat, calling out for "Medic!" as he does so.

Eric removes Jolie from the WPG's cockpit and sets the diminutive MS ace on her feet.

A moment later, Jolie lashes out and catches Eric with a chop that would have decapitated him had he not been wearing his helmet; as it is, the helmet is cracked as if it had been cleaved by an axe.

The other Centurions begin backing away as Jolie swings at them wildly. Eric, Bright, Chieming, Amy, and several others finally succeed in tackling her to the ground.

A medical team approaches and promptly injects Jolie with a powerful sedative. The Centurion Team leader soon loses consciousness.

"Take her to the triage," General Noah orders, "She needs medical attention."

Even as a stretcher arrives to transport Jolie to the triage, Chieming receives a message from Col. Christina McKenzie on the _Amuro Ray_.

"Chieming," Christina's voice comes through the helmet receiver, "What's happening? Have you secured Side 7 yet?"

"Yes, ma'am," Chieming reports, glancing at the destruction around her, "The Titans are in retreat. The President and General Noah have been liberated."

"That's excellent news," Christina replies, "But we can't celebrate yet: our reconnaissance units show that the main Titans' Armada has departed Luna 2."

"Are they headed our way?" Chieming asks worriedly.

"No," Christina answers grimly, "They're on a course for Side 3."

"Side 3?" Chieming repeats, "They're going to attack the Shambala Republic!"

"We need to get there, now," Christina says.

"We need some time for repairs," Chieming answers, choking up, "We-we lost 2Lt. Zhang...and Jolie…she..."

Christina feels a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, "Repeat that, Captain Noah. What is the status of Major Minh-Miguel?"

"She's fine," Chieming amends, "But…oh, God…"

Eric gently removes the helmet from Chieming's head and places it on his own and begins, "Col. McKenzie, this is Major Gardner. Here's what happened…"

* * *

Some twelve hours later, Jolie awakens in the triage area set up in the familiar confines of Garrison Noah, now once again under Earth Federation Forces control.

Jolie rises…her muscles ache, and she feels inexplicably weak. Nevertheless, she rises, picks up her helmet from where it lies on a nearby examination table, and staggers out of the triage area.

The Garrison is abuzz with activity. SNRI MS assist technicians and engineers in repairing the damage as best they can. Jolie turns her head and sees her White Phoenix Gundam being rearmed and repaired on a service gantry, a process that seems near completion.

In the distance, Major Eric Gardner's borrowed Centurion Gundam Unit-2 uses its beam saber to melt away the hated emblem of the Titans from the armored wall of the MS deck, to the applause of the mechanics, technicians, and troops who pause momentarily in their work to express their approval.

Jolie, her battle rage spent, opens her mind…and hears the discussion currently taking place between General Bright Noah and his wife, President Mirai Yashima…

"_The Titans are going after Side 3," Mirai says lamentfully, "Hathaway and Minerva are going to need help, but our resources are exhausted. There's not much we can do to support them."_

"_Christina and her fleet will deploy within an hour to attempt an interception of the Titans…maybe as a diversionary tactic," Bright says, "Hopefully, Jolie will be able to join them."_

"_They were operating right under our noses all along," Mirai says, frustration evident in her voice, "We had five years to uncover and put an end to what Blackhead and his cronies were doing, and we utterly failed."_

"_Not yet," Bright says determinedly, "We won't let those bastards get Shambala too."_

Jolie has heard enough. She dons her helmet and strides towards her White Phoenix Gundam.

To Jolie's pleasant surprise, Captain Molly Duran-Pierce is waiting there for her, clipboard in hand and devilish smile in place.

"Good to see you survived," Jolie says with a roguish grin of her own.

"Partly because you went psycho on those Titans pigs," Molly replies, "Swear to God: I'll never, ever piss you off again, Major. Don't want to end up like those eighty-three MS you trashed."

"Eighty-three?" Jolie says incredulously.

"Eighty-three," Molly affirms, "What…you lost count?"

"Something like that," Jolie answers, losing interest, "Is the WPG ready to deploy?"

"All dressed for action and ready to party," Molly affirms, "Except they haven't handed out your invitation yet."

"I'm crashing the party," Jolie says wearily, boarding the WPG, and bringing systems on line, "Hook me up with an M-Booster."

"Going long-distance, eh?" Molly teases, already ordering the M-Booster.

"Don't want to be late," Jolie rejoins.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the WPG launches from Garrison Noah…_en rout _to the Side 3 Zone.

The flight across the Earth Sphere utilizing the M-Booster takes six hours…enough time for Jolie to formulate some semblance of a battle plan.

Jolie outflanks the Titans Armada, speeding past them to reach the perimeter of the Side 3 Zone just thirty minutes ahead of them.

Approaching the Side 3 Zone, Jolie spots the Titans Armada before her…ominously closing upon the space colonies of Side 3 like a large school of sharks bearing down upon a school of tuna.

Jolie lines the flagship of the Titans Armada, commanded by General Manron Blackhead himself, in the targeting bracket of the WPG's combat computer and prepares to open fire with all weapons systems.

Then she senses them…two familiar and powerful PSI-energy wave patterns.

The WPG finds itself suddenly confronted by the Cosmogundam, standing between it and the approaching Titans Armada.


	11. EPISODE 10: ETERNAL COSMOS

**EPISODE 10: THE WHITE PHOENIX OF THE ETERNAL COSMOS**

A combined armada of Titans and Crossbones Vanguard warships, numbering over one-hundred warships and perhaps close to one-thousand mobile suits, bears down on Side 3 from two flanks originating from L1 (Crossbones Vanguard) and L5 (Titans).

From garrisons and combat stations on the surface of the moon, the Shambala Defense Guard's defense armada warships, aerospace fighters, mobile suits, and gun batteries deploy _en masse_to meet the incoming attack. Given the generally defensive orientation of the Shambala Forces, however, the SDG's power does not match its valor, a fact that becomes brutally apparent as the United Forces Armada, a name that the Titans/Crossbones Vanguard alliance has obscenely stolen from the Earth Federation/Shambala Republic alliance that defeated Archduke Alexander Miguel's Phobos Zeon Empire, shrugs off the Shambala Defense Guard's preemptive strike with minimal losses.

The United Armada's counterattack, however, is devastating…its counterstrike felling fifteen percent of the SDG.

Hundreds of vessels…warships, commercial cargo ships, passenger ships, have been recruited for a mass evacuation of Side 3…perhaps the largest, most rapidly organized _exodus _in human history, but the number of souls to evacuate is legion, and the time, desperately short…

The United Armada requires only about thirty minutes' time to penetrate the first line of the Shambala Republic's defense in lunar orbit. Shambala has additional forces within the orbit of Side 3 proper, but Shambala's top military officers know that they will not fare much better than their comrades-at-arms garrisoned on the moon…

* * *

The White Phoenix Gundam finds its path to the United Armada obstructed by the Omega Gundam and the Draco Gundam.

The Omega Gundam and the Draco Gundam bring their weapons systems to bear upon the White Phoenix Gundam; the WPG counters with a corresponding maneuver.

The standoff lasts scarcely five seconds before Major Jolie Minh-Miguel snarls, "Out of my way!"

From the Draco Gundam, Christian Ray answers, "You're not going anywhere, Jolie, except straight to hell!"

So saying, Christian lays down a vicious volley that would certainly have downed any other pilot and mobile suit.

Jolie succeeds in maneuvering the White Phoenix Gundam away from Christian's volley, but realizes too late that Christian's strikes were not intended to hit her, but to prod her towards the Omega Gundam, which promptly blasts the WPG with its beam cannon.

While Jolie is still reeling from the hit, the Draco Gundam hits her with another blast.

"Structural integrity of mecha compromised," the WPG's AI reports coldly.

The equally cold voice of Jo-M says, "You're the one who won't let us live in peace…so we must destroy you."

So saying, Jo-M blasts the WPG again.

The displays of the WPG light up fiercely, indicating great stress upon the mobile suit's superstructure. Jolie knows that if she doesn't regain control and begin fighting back, she's finished.

_I can take either of them one-on-one_, Jolie reasons, _but I really don't know if I can handle the two of them together…especially if they combine into the Cosmogundam._

That thought is hardly complete before Jolie glances at her forward monitor in horror as the OG and the Draco Gundam begin positioning themselves for docking.

Jolie's eyes flash…she can't let them dock.

Jolie aims the White Phoenix Gundam's beam rifle between the OG and the Draco Gundam, unleashing a single blast of red Minovsky particle energy that tears between the two enemy Gundams, preventing them from aligning with each other for docking.

Jolie knows she has only seconds before Christian and Jo-M regroup and attempt to dock again.

The WPG dives straight into the gap between the Omega Gundam and the Draco Gundam, turning its back to the OG while swiveling to face the Draco Gundam.

The White Phoenix Gundam and the Draco Gundam…the phoenix and the dragon…open fire simultaneously, their blasts colliding and creating a reflective concussion that blasts the Draco Gundam back towards open space and the WPG back into the OG, causing the two mobile suits to collide with bone-crushing force.

Christian regains control of the Draco Gundam, repositions himself, and sees that Jolie has positioned the WPG in front of the OG.

No doubt as she intended…to cause Christian that moment's hesitation that gives Jolie the opportunity shoot at him again.

But Christian notices that the Omega Gundam is already preparing to strike the White Phoenix Gundam in the back…from point blank range.

_We have her in a crossfire_, Christian reasons, _but we need to move as soon as we shoot, because we know she'll try to dodge._

_You're right, _Jo-M responds.

The Omega Gundam and the Draco Gundam prepare to fire, and the WPG prepares to move clear of the crossfire.

Jolie moves, and the Draco Gundam is blasted…from behind!

The Centurion Team and other SNRI units arrive _en masse_, led by Major Eric Gardner's Centurion Gundam Unit-2 and Captain Chieming Noah's Cour-de-Leon.

"Jolie!" Major Gardner calls out, "Concentrate on the Omega Gundam! We'll take the Draco Gundam off your back!"

"Thanks, guys!" Jolie calls back, turning to face the Omega Gundam.

The SNRI Forces swarm around Christian Ray's Draco Gundam.

"Everybody be careful," Eric cautions his comrades, "He's fast and dangerous."

The Draco Gundam charges towards the CG2 at multiple-mach speed, unleashing a torrent of beam fire at its former twin.

Eric jukes the CG2 in a spinning evasive maneuver, nearly getting pasted by the Draco's heavy fire, but is bailed out by a strafing run by Chieming and the other SNRI units. A few of those units take hits and go down.

Eric directs the CG2 to squeeze off two shots in quick succession; the veteran SNRI MS pilot's eyes narrow as they see the Draco Gundam lift its rifle out of the way and raise its shield to defend its own head.

Through the battle, Eric senses…_something_…a familiar presence seemingly bolstering his efforts.

_C'mon, Eric, _Major Gardner chides himself, _There's no such thing as ghosts._

The image of the late Captain Jonah Michaels flashes for an instant through Eric's consciousness as his CG2…formerly Jonah's mobile suit…scores a direct hit on the Draco Gundam…not destroying or even severely damaging it, but definitely giving it pause.

Major Gardner cannot afford to celebrate, however, because the Draco Gundam recovers quickly, and comes at him again, missing the CG2, but taking out a few more SNRI Javelin mobile suits.

_He's swatting us down like flies_, Eric laments, _we're not going to be able to hold out against him for long. Have to keep him occupied until Jolie can finish off that clone! Maybe there's a better way to do that besides shooting at him._

Eric opens communications channels to the Draco Gundam's receiving wavelength, "Christian, I can understand what you're going through, but you don't know what Jolie went through…what she's going through! Nothing good will come from killing off Jolie, can't you see that? She's fighting to save all of us…you have to help her, not fight her!"

Christian shakes his helmeted head in denial, crying back, "Can't you see that the Federation, even the SNRI, is just using Jolie? She's just a puppet…a killing machine, and she and her puppet masters must be destroyed!"

Eric dodges Christian's next volley (_was that Jonah he saw briefly again_?) and then charges the Draco with the CG2's beam saber.

Eric tries again, "Christian! Don't do this! Remember that talk we had a few weeks ago at the hangar? Remember what I told you then? Think, kiddo, think!"

* * *

_Garrison Noah, four weeks earlier…_

_Major Eric Gardner and 2Lt. Christian Ray of SNRI's Centurion Team, dressed in greasy maintenance coveralls, work side-by-side in the maintenance of Christian's mobile suit, the Centurion Gundam (Unit-1)._

_Eric supervises as Christian operates a crane bearing a new vulcan cannon mechanism – to replace the unit damaged during a recent combat training run._

"_All right," Eric says, "Nice work. Bring it down a little more and I'll get it aligned."_

"_You got it, Major," Christian replies, deftly manipulating the crane's controls._

_A half hour later, the two young men take a break, seating themselves on the service gantry of the Centurion Gundam's maintenance dock. Between sips from their airtight drink containers, the two officers talk._

_Eric produces a photograph from his pocket and shows it to Christian._

_Christian's eyes light up with surprise, "Hey…that's my mom…and my dad! I didn't know you knew them!"_

_Eric grins, "I served with them in the Karaba during the war against the Titans and the Axis Neo Zeons."_

_Christian looks longingly at the image of his mother, Velotrika Irma, and his eyes begin watering._

_Eric says soothingly, "You miss her, don't you? Your mom."_

"_Yeah," Christian replies with a sigh that sounds almost like a sob, "I was very little when it happened….when she was lost, I mean. I don't remember that much, but I remember that she…she was very good to me."_

_Eric pats Christian on the shoulder, "I'm sure she was. She was a wonderful lady…beautiful, brave…outspoken and opinionated, just like you, but at heart, very passionate and loyal. I liked her a lot…and I liked Amuro, your dad."_

_Christian's mood turns sullen._

"_Look, kiddo," Eric says in his characteristically easygoing, but firm manner, "I know you feel resentment towards your dad…because he couldn't be there for you. If I were you, I'd probably feel the same…but I tell you, I knew your dad, Chris: he was a good man and he wouldn't have abandoned you if he'd known about you."_

"_Jolie told me the same thing," Christian confesses, "Everybody seems bent on having me worship at the feet of this 'great hero,' Amuro Ray. He doesn't mean a thing to me, Major."_

"_I'm not sure I believe that," Eric says, "but you're wrong: nobody expects you to worship anybody. I think, though, that you should give Amuro a fair chance."_

"_Amuro's_dead," _Christian replies darkly, "He doesn't mean a thing to anybody anymore. I guess the story will be the same for me…the Federation is just going to use me the same way it used Amuro, and then Jolie after him. We're just pawns to them, Major."_

"_Kid," Eric says, "Your parents were never the pawns of anybody. They fought the Zeons and the Titans because they believed that nobody, not the Federation or anybody else, had the right to take the lives and freedom of others away. I fought alongside both of them long enough to know."_

_Christian spits out a wad of gum he has been chewing before he says sarcastically, "Next thing you're going to tell me you were there when I was born."_

_Eric smiles._

_Christian looks at the senior officer incredulously, "You're kidding, right?"_

"_You were born on a battlefield," Eric says, "It was in what used to be Turkey near the ruins of the ancient city of Troy where our Karaba unit was mopping up some Titans revenants. Your mom, stubborn as she was, refused to take a leave of absence during her pregnancy. I was, however, able to persuade her to take up duty with the Supply Corps rather than Air Combat Wing. She went into labor just as we came under attack by that Titans unit. We drove 'em off just as you cried for the first time."_

"_Wow," Christian says, too astonished to say anything else._

"_I was one of the few people who even knew about you," Eric continues, "Amuro didn't even know. Velotrica didn't tell him. They split in early 0088 not long before the Axis Zeon invaded Earth and Amuro returned to space combat with the main AEUG force. I think…she was a bit angry that he went off into space combat and didn't take her with him. I understand Amuro, though…he didn't want to endanger your mother in combat, and he knew that as long as she stayed with him, she'd see nothing but combat. He left her because he loved her, Christian…he didn't want to get her killed."_

"_That's how you see it," Christian answers, "All I see is another deadbeat dad. C'mon, let's finish our work."_

"_One more thing," Eric pursues, "As soldiers, we make sacrifices and perform our duties, but not because we're machines or puppets. We do it because we're human, and we have a right to live the way we want to live. Sometimes, however, having and keeping that right means fighting and sacrificing for it. Amuro understood that. Jolie understands that. I hope you do too."_

_Eric gives the youth one last pat on the shoulder, then rises to resume his work. Christian sullenly follows him a moment later…_

* * *

Christian draws the Draco Gundam's beam saber and parries Eric's strike. All around, the mobile suits of SNRI continue to pour their collective firepower towards the Draco Gundam.

"Lies!" Christian screams, "All of it, just goddamned lies! I've seen the truth, Gardner! All of you are just puppets…just machines! Kill each other if you want! If war is all you know…all you want, then take it! Leave Jo-M and me out of it, though! We don't want any part of your damned Federation, your damned Shambala Republic, your damned Archduchy of Zeon, or your damned wars!"

So saying, Christian opens up with a volley that Major Gardner barely manages to dodge.

Sweating profusely, feeling the pressure, Eric sends forth a desperate psychic appeal.

_C'mon, Jolie…_

* * *

The White Phoenix Gundam swings around to confront its enemy and antithesis, the Omega Gundam.

Even with Christian and the Draco Gundam momentarily occupied and taken off Jolie by her SNRI comrades-at-arms, Jolie finds Jo-M and the Omega Gundam more than challenging enough an adversary.

For Jolie, the experience is reminiscent of her duel against the Phobos Zeon ace Kyoko Yamaguchi five years earlier, but Kyoko…in terms of her person and more importantly, her fighting technique, was only similar to Jolie…not identical. There was still plenty of room for them to surprise each other, which Jolie did to narrowly defeat Kyoko in their duel-for-the-ages, but fighting Jo-M is, for Jolie, precisely like fighting a mirror image of herself. Every move she makes, Jo-M seems to anticipate; Jolie can only be thankful that the inverse is no less true.

And then, there's the discrepancy of their war machines: Jolie never thought she would see the day when the White Phoenix Gundam would be outclassed: the OG has five times the WPG's raw power, a more variegated and sophisticated array of weaponry, far heavier armor, an I-Field, and, most importantly, that Biosensor…far superior to the one deployed on the WPG, which had been cutting edge as recently as five years ago.

As Camille frequently reminds Jolie, in the realm of mobile suit technology, the progress made in five years might as well be five lifetimes. The WPG had been long overdue for an upgrade to its Biosensor, but, as Jolie now realizes, General Blackhead had been diverting most of the Federal Forces' (and especially SNRI's) to building his new Titans Corps. Camille never had the resources to upgrade the WPG's Biosensor the way he wanted to – those resources were allocated almost entirely to the Omega Gundam.

All this, in practical terms, results in Jolie and the WPG's being batted around quite soundly by the Omega Gundam. Jolie gets her shots in, but as a consequence of the OG's thick armor and I-Field, isn't doing as much damage as she wishes she could.

The WPG narrowly avoids a volley of powerful beam blasts that come very close to nailing it; Jolie's superior combat experience and training are keeping her in the fight, and Jolie believes that if she can drag the battle out long enough, she can make use of that experience and training to overcome the OG's superiority…but Jolie doesn't know if she has that time. Ahead of her, Jolie can see the Shambala Defense Guard taking heavy casualties at the hands of the United Forces. She might have only minutes before the colonies of Shambala are within range of the United Forces' WMD.

Jolie opens fire with a devastating volley of beam and missile fire, which the Omega Gundam, belying its enormous bulk, dodges with an unexpected litheness and speed.

_Damn!_ Jolie curses, _she's as fast as I am!_

The White Phoenix Gundam and the Omega Gundam exchange dozens of volleys, shifting position faster than the human eye can follow. Feints, dodges, parries, vicious power attacks…all come into play as the advantage shifts microsecond by microsecond, millimeter by millimeter.

Jolie is momentarily distracted by a distant explosion, caused by Christian's Draco Gundam destroying two SNRI mobile suits. Her thoughts turn to her friends, Eric and Chieming, and her fallen subordinate 2Lt. Rayann Zhang…

The moment's distraction is enough for the Omega Gundam's attacks to penetrate Jolie's defenses, resulting in a hit to a critical avionics relay that sends the White Phoenix Gundam spinning out of control.

Jo-M's voice, a chilling duplicate of her own, comes through Jolie's helmet audio monitor, "I am Jolie Minh; this world doesn't need you anymore…_old type_."

Jo-M gathers her PSI-energy, projecting it through the Omega Gundam's Biosensor…

A white phoenix of PSI-energy projects forth from the Omega Gundam.

Jolie's forehead sparks…a second white phoenix of PSI-energy emanating from the White Phoenix Gundam.

The two energy streams meet in the cosmos, obliterating any objects, be they mobile suits or space debris, which approach too close. This is no longer a battle of mecha: it is a struggle between humanity's newly tapped cosmic potential…of a force within humanity that it has barely begun to comprehend or control…

For a long minute, there is stalemate…nothing unexpected, considering that Jolie and Jo-M are genetically identical.

Jolie begins feeling the pressure…the strain…as the Biosensor boost given to Jo-M begins overwhelming her.

Jo-M says as she presses her advantage, "Christian loved you, Jolie, but you didn't love him back. That's why this is how it will end for you. Christian and I are one; if you're going to destroy him, then I have no choice but destroy you first."

It dawns on Jolie that Jo-M might be right; she feels her consciousness dimming, as if the entire cosmos is closing in on her. She is the White Phoenix…but she cannot spread her wings.

Jolie once again draws upon her experience…not a specific combat maneuver as understood in conventional terms, but the experiences of her life. Jo-M spoke of her oneness of Christian, and Jolie is reminded of the darkest moment of her life…

_Jonah…_

He seems to appear before her, smiling that reassuring, gentle smile that had warmed her heart so many times in days long gone.

_I'm here, Jolie…_

Their essences merge…as they had in the past…

Jolie's eyes flash and she snarls at Jo-M, "You dare to lecture _me_about love…about being one with another! Jo-M, you don't know _anything_ about it!"

The White Phoenix PSI-energy, having taken on a shimmering quality, surges forth, overwhelming Jo-M's PSI-energy, feeding back through the OG's Biosensor.

Jo-M finds herself engulfed in a storm of lightning, the energy burning the core of her flesh. Blood seeps forth from her nose and mouth.

_Christian…_the dying Jo-M casts her thoughts painfully.

_Jo…_Christian responds, distracted long enough for Major Gardner to nearly bring the Draco Gundam down.

_Christian…I'm sorry…I…_

Jo-M's presence fades…unreachable now.

* * *

"NO!" Christian bites out, his eyes welling with tears.

Christian disengages the Draco Gundam from the Centurion Gundam-2, throwing its arm-mounted shield like a missile at the CG2.

Eric intercepts the incoming missile-shield with a single slash of the CG-2's beam saber (a trick Amuro had taught him years earlier), but before Eric can follow through, he is startled by the sight of the Draco Gundam appearing with dazzling speed right in front of his linear seat cockpit's forward monitor, its bulk looming over and filling his field of vision.

Eric has the wind sucked out of his lungs as he feels the impact of the Draco Gundam's kick directly into the CG-2's gut, right on the cockpit hatch. Most other men would have been knocked out cold, and even the resilient Major Gardner finds himself stunned.

Christian gives Eric no respite; the youth uses the Draco Gundam's armored fists to batter the CG-2's head unit to scrap.

Satisfied that Gardner no longer poses any immediate threat to him, Christian vectors the Draco Gundam towards Jolie's White Phoenix Gundam.

"Christian," Eric groans, fighting painfully to get his breath back, "They aren't lies. Stop, before you…"

The CG-2's combat computer flashes a warning to Eric that a Crossbones Vanguard MS combat squad is approaching his team's position. Christian is on his own…

Major Gardner switches to secondary camera units located (of all places) at the joint between the CG-2's legs; his mobile suit vectors off to join with his comrades, his woman included.

* * *

Jolie prepares to open fire on the smoldering, unmoving Omega Gundam with all of the WPG's weapons systems, but to her surprise, the OG converts to mobile armor configuration, and vectors away…towards Side 3, at full afterburner speed.

_What th'? _Jolie wonders, puzzled. Then, her eyes widen as she comes to a horrible realization, "Oh my God!"

Jolie prepares to convert the WPG to Wavediver configuration, but is forced to dodge a vicious incoming volley from Christian's Draco Gundam.

Christian's eyes burn with liquid flame, his face twisted in an enraged scowl as he snarls out, "_**MURDERER!**__"_

Jolie's says nothing in response, focusing all of her attention on dodging the enraged youth's incoming strikes, drawing upon her eight years of veteran experience as a combat pilot to evade or counter Christian's furious, relentless onslaught.

Blinded by tears of rage and grief, Christian brings the Draco Gundam's entire arsenal to bear against the White Phoenix Gundam.

"Heartless bitch!" Christian screams, "All we wanted was to live together in peace, but you! You wouldn't let us!"

So saying, Christian unleashes another torrent of firepower against the White Phoenix Gundam.

To any other MS pilot, the incoming firestorm would be unavoidable, and even Jolie is close to her breaking point…

Christian Ray's eyes flash with an infernal flame as he bites out, "Jo-M deserved to live much more than you ever did! You're just a puppet! A toy for sick, evil men! A killing machine!"

_Words…or rather sentiments…that hurt much more than any weapon ever could..._

Jolie feels an enormous pressure bearing down on her, and the cosmos is momentarily inverted like the negative exposure of an old photographic film…and then the image of flaming dragon as massive as the universe itself bears down viciously upon her, threatening to sweep her away.

Having just expended a great amount of her PSI-energy to defeat Jo-M and the Omega Gundam, Jolie cannot erect a defensive shield of PSI-energy against Christian's incoming psionic onslaught, but the youth's complete focus on his PSI-attack has created an instant's opening in his defense that would become manifest in…three seconds.

Jolie takes aim with the White Phoenix Gundam's beam rifle, directly where the opening will emerge…

She has time for only one thought –_I'm sorry, Christian…_

Without an instant's hesitation, Jolie locks onto the target…both with the WPG's targeting systems and her mind. Her eyes are cold and intensely focused…nothing in them but the target and its destruction.

A single beam rips forth from the barrel of the WPG's beam rifle, a stream of hyperaccelerated Minovsky particles rushing towards its target at a speed just under that of light.

The beam lances through the center of the Draco Gundam, instantly incinerating its cockpit.

In the instant before the beam strikes, Jolie senses Christian Ray's last thought…_Jo-M…_

Jolie opens the visor of her helmet, disengaging the targeting system…the fiery eyes of the hunter soften to eyes flooded with grief.

Jolie blinks away tears the tears quickly as her rage and deadly focus quickly reassert themselves.

_Minerva Zabi…_

Jolie transforms the WPG into Wavediver configuration and sets a vector into the Side 3 Zone.

* * *

The damaged Omega Gundam docks on autopilot with the _Mapother_, the combat-converted cargo ship that has long served as Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi's personal flagship.

A crew of technicians and mechanics rush to service the battle-scarred mobile suit, quickly repairing or replacing damaged components to make the MS combat-worthy again on short notice.

Minerva and Hathaway rush to an elevator crane, which carries them to the cockpit hatch of the mecha. Minerva enters a security code to open the hatch.

The mortal remains of Jo-M, still helmeted and normalsuited, sits lifelessly at the controls.

Minerva opens the visor of Jo-M's helmet; the beautiful, youthful face of Jolie's clone is the paleness of the death.

Minerva reaches out to that face, which is cold to the touch.

Minerva extracts a handkerchief from her breast pocket to wipe away the trails of cold, dried blood running forth from a corner of Jo-M's lips and nostrils.

Minerva holds Jo-M close to herself for a long, silent moment.

Simple gestures that say everything words cannot.

"Hathaway," Minerva whispers at last.

"I'm here," Hathaway answers softly.

"Take care of her," Minerva answers.

By that, Hathaway understands that Minerva means nothing less than interment with full military honors.

Hathaway takes Jo-M's remains gently into his arms, asking Minerva, "What about you?"

Minerva gazes up at the Omega Gundam, undergoing emergency repairs.

"Min," Hathaway says disapprovingly, "You can't…"

"Nobody else will," Minerva cuts her husband and confidante off, "Jolie won't, and Jo-M…no longer can. Everything depends on this, Hathaway…everybody…including _her_."

Minerva's flesh right hand touches her slightly bulging abdomen gently.

Hathaway stares hard at his wife for a long moment, then his gaze softens as he kisses her, "I understand…but you need to understand: if you aren't coming back…don't expect me to stay here alone."

Minerva acknowledges that vow silently, and then sprints for the pilots' lockers.

Hathaway watches regretfully as his wife…the love his life departs for combat…praying that this will not be the final memory they share together.

* * *

The United Forces Armada has bludgeoned its way through the Shambala Republic Defense Guard's defensive perimeter in lunar orbit and is within minutes of penetrating Side 3 proper.

SNRI Forces attack the United Forces Armada from the rear while the Shambala Defense Guard sends in a second wave of defenders, but despite this two-pronged attack, General Manron Blackhead and Meitzer Ronah lack no confidence that Side 3 will fall within hours.

"Major Almqvist," Blackhead rumbles grandly, "Can we presently deploy our medium-range weaponry on targets within the Side 3 Zone?"

The gunnery tech replies, "Yes, sir. All targets within the Side 3 Zone are presently in range of our medium-range weaponry."

Blackhead shifts his weight and answers, "Very well. Arm a ten-megaton _Mjöllnir_. Target: Amsterdam Colony."

Colony 11 of Side 3, Amsterdam, population: 1,374,962. A residential colony; no military garrison. Defenseless other than small civil defense patrols.

"Target: Colony 11, locked," Major Almqvist intones coldly, "_Mjöllnir_ armed and ready to fire."

"Deploy _Mjöllnir,"_ Blackhead orders.

"_Mjöllnir_now deploying," Almqvist acknowledges, "Three minutes to contact."

With some difficulty, Blackhead rises from his seat, leaning upon his cane. He wants to be standing for the moment…

Civil defense mobile suits and gunnery batteries from Shambala Defense Guard warships attempt to intercept the incoming Mjöllnir missile, but the missile's onboard avoidance-systems and I-Field render their valiant efforts futile.

The missile closes in on the Amsterdam Colony, whose evacuation population has barely been evacuated.

The initial impact is barely perceptible, except to those in the immediate vicinity of the collision.

Then, it comes…swiftly, brutally, unrelentingly…light that blinds even through the strongest protective lenses, concussion that tears through and crushes even the most well-built steel structures as if they were made of crêpe paper, and finally, heat that melts titanium as if it were ice and flays skin from muscle, and muscle from bone and cartilage.

There is time, perhaps a second, for the one-million inhabitants – men, women, children – to experience the horror and pain of nuclear death before they vanish from the universe forever.

The flash fills the bridge of General Blackhead's flagship.

The General lights a cigar, regulations be damned, dropping a match to the deck plates and crushing it with the heel of his boot.

Blackhead gazes at the ballooning flash with satisfaction and grumbles lowly, "That was for our beloved Earth…dirty, degenerate Spacenoid swine."

"Major Almqvist," Blackhead orders, "Arm another _Mjöllnir._Target: Colony 18, Kyoto Colony.

Another metropolitan colony, population similar to that of the disintegrated Amsterdam Colony.

The missile is armed and readied for firing…

* * *

Meitzer Ronah watches the action dispassionately from the bridge of his flagship.

_Blackhead is a fool_, the leader of the Cosmic Babylonia reflects as he watches Kyoto Colony disappear in a shining nuclear balloon that resembles a miniature sun, _Wasting our firepower on these useless targets. But let him have his pleasure…in the end, my objectives will be met._

* * *

From the bridge of the _La Kaelum_-II, General Bright Noah of the Earth Federation Forces smashes his fist angrily against the forward bridge console.

"Those bastards!" Bright rages, "Murderous scum and bastards!"

"Sir," a mobile combat group tech reports, "SNRI Forces are taking heavy casualties; they have not been able to penetrate the enemy's defenses."

"Have you been able to raise the White Phoenix Gundam?" Bright asks hopefully.

"Negative, sir," comes the reply, "We lost contact with Major Minh-Miguel twelve minutes ago. No sign of her, sir."

"Damn it!" Bright rages again.

A veteran of hundreds of battles, Bright has never felt this helpless…

General Noah takes to his command seat, "Gather our fleet: we're moving in to back up SNRI."

* * *

In her office on the top floor of the Hall of Parliament in Shambala City, Prime Minister Artasia Daikun receives word from frantic aides about the destruction of Amsterdam and Kyoto colonies; in a matter of minutes, two million of her people have been murdered by monsters in the form of men.

Artasia contains her outrage, asserting a calm strength that she knows she will need if she is to save the rest of her people.

"Step up all evacuation efforts," Artasia orders calmly, "Let's get our people out of harm's way."

_Minerva_, Artasia casts her thoughts towards the cosmos,_whatever you have in mind, please hurry; our people are dying…_

* * *

Minerva dons her helmet and rushes to the boarding gantry of the Omega Gundam; the mobile suit is not in the best possible condition, but Minerva's engineers have deemed it combat worthy, if only marginally so.

It will need to suffice.

Minerva boards the cockpit of the Omega Gundam and brings its combat systems to life; the onboard combat computer and Biosensor immediately recalibrate themselves from Jo-M's synaptic wavelength to Minerva's.

"Minerva Zabi: Omega Gundam, launching!"

* * *

The White Phoenix Gundam finds itself ringed by a squadron of Crossbones Vanguard mobile suits led by Carozzo Ronah himself.

"I've got no time to waste with you!" Jolie snarls, tearing into her enemies.

So saying, Jolie opens fire with the White Phoenix Gundam's missile batteries and beam cannon, flaming a half dozen CV mobile suits and scattering their battle formation.

"Clip her wings!" Carrozzo Ronah orders, "This phoenix's flying days are done!"

The CV mobile suits converge around the WPG, attempting to hem them in, but Jolie cuts through them with the WPG's beam saber.

Suddenly, powerful beam strikes from another vector down one, two, then three CV mobile suits…strikes that did not come from the White Phoenix Gundam.

"Omega Gundam!" Carrozzo Ronah growls.

With a precision born of the years they shared as comrades-at-arms, Jolie and Minerva make short work of the remaining CV mobile suits…immolating more than two dozen enemy MS between them.

Only one CV mobile suit escapes…that of Carrozzo Ronah.

"May you send each other to hell!" Carrozzo curses as he leaves.

Their common enemies destroyed or driven away, the Omega Gundam and White Phoenix Gundam turn to face each other once again…

…one last time.

In the cockpits of the two mobile suits, the two young women who pilot them regard each other across the short expanse of space…the distance between them actually much greater than that.

Deep in their hearts, through all the years they have known each other…and fought alongside each other, each of them has wondered…and feared the answer…of what would happen if they faced each other in a battle to the death.

Jolie's eyes burn with fiery rage; her blood boils for retribution.

Minerva's eyes, characteristically, are colder, seeing an obstacle that must be removed.

_Minerva Zabi…Athena…_

_Jolie…_

The two Gundams seem frozen in time, unmoving, until the death flash of another space colony in the Side 3 Zone reminds them what is at stake.

When she was Lt. Col. Athena Ibaz of the Earth Federation Special Forces, Minerva was known as the fastest shot alive…in or out of a mobile suit cockpit. Although she has not actively served as a combat pilot for five years, her skill has not eroded. The draw of the OG's beam rifle, the shot…is faster than even Jo-M could have managed, and surprises Jolie enough to blast the WPG's own beam rifle out its armorshod hand.

Having lost her MS's primary long-range armament, Jolie draws the WPG's beam saber and charges towards the Omega Gundam, plunging its tip towards the larger mecha's midsection.

Minerva has anticipated the move, and counters by deploying a swarm of psychom funnels at the WPG.

_Jo-M didn't have the experience to properly use these,_Minerva reflects_,__or she might be alive now._

Minerva, however, does have abundant experience in deploying psychom weapons, and sends them towards Jolie in a dozen deadly trajectories.

Jolie's eyes flash as she instantly calculates those trajectories, anticipating the vectors from which the incoming shots will come, and deploys the WPG's own psychom funnels to counter.

The dozens of funnels mutually annihilate each other, the two mobile suits soaring up to evade the hellacious explosion their weapons have created.

Behind them, in the distance, another ballooning mass of star-flame claims another million souls…

"Get out of the way!" Minerva bites out, "While you're fighting me, millions of people are dying! I gave you the chance to make a difference, and you threw it away!"

"It's because of you that all this is happening!" Jolie snarls back, "You were the one who created Jo-M! You were the one who used her to seduce Christian! I had to destroy both of them to clean up the mess you created…_**Zabi**_!"

So saying, Jolie converts the White Phoenix Gundam's beam saber into its beam javelin configuration and hurls it directly at the Omega Gundam with the full force of the WPG's arm.

The javelin flies straight and true towards the Omega Gundam at multiple mach speed, threatening to impale the OG through its cockpit.

The OG swats the beam javelin aside with a sweep of its mighty armored right fist.

Jolie catches Minerva off-guard with a maneuver that the latter did not anticipate as Jolie rams the shoulder of the WPG into the chest of the OG at full force, the momentum of the blow knocking both Gundams towards a derelict industrial colony.

The Omega Gundam and the White Phoenix Gundam plow through the hull of the colony, crashing into a district of volatile chemical facilities (some still active), tumbling over gasometer bulbs, fuel lines, and exhaust stacks. Fires ignite all around them, casting an unholy glow upon both Gundams…giving them a distinctively demonic appearance.

Jolie works the WPG's controls frantically, directing her mobile suit to tear frenziedly at external components of the OG, ripping out weapons systems, maneuvering thrusters, avionics nodes…doing damage that seems superficial, but could cripple the enemy MS if it continues to accumulate.

Minerva uses the OG's titanic strength to hurl the badly damaged WPG into a cluster of gas containers; she then opens fire with the OG's remaining guns, setting the volatile chemicals within on fire.

Unlatching the safety harness of her cockpit seat, Jolie opens the reinforced cockpit hatch of the WPG, defying death as she leaps clear from the cockpit, activating her normalsuit's vernier maneuvering thrusters.

Minerva lays down more firepower on the gas containers, creating a hellacious explosion that engulfs the remains of the WPG in flames.

At 100 meters above the hellish scene, Jolie draws a magna-cable reel from her normalsuit's waist belt. Jolie aims the tool at the armor of the Omega Gundam, attaching herself to the MS and reeling herself in.

Minerva reverses the polarity of the Omega Gundam's armor, causing Jolie's magna-clamp to disengage from the OG's shell, but not before Jolie catches a handhold on the armor, hanging on for dear life.

Minerva uses the OG's armored hand to attempt to brush Jolie off…an armored giant slapping at an annoying gnat.

Jolie Minh-Miguel, however, is one of the most nimble human beings ever to have lived – she swings easily from protrusion to protrusion from the OG's armor, maneuvering herself closer to the cockpit hatch.

Jolie gets atop the cockpit hatch of the OG as Minerva prepares to take the MS out of the colony and into open space again.

_Have to stop her._

Using her sidearm, Jolie blasts open the access panel to the hatch controls, punching in the access code.

The cockpit hatch swings open.

Jolie reaches into the cockpit, grabs Minerva by the throat of her normalsuit.

Minerva tucks her legs back and kicks Jolie out of the cockpit; she disengages her seat restraints and rises, drawing her sidearm.

Jolie does not give Minerva the chance to fire her weapon, pulling on Minerva's flesh-and-blood right arm…the one that holds the pistol, and pulling Minerva out of the cockpit with her.

The two young women tumble into somersaults, both landing on their feet.

Minerva comes up shooting, denying Jolie the opportunity to pull out her own sidearm and fire back.

Jolie charges, getting in close where Minerva cannot aim her weapon, twisting the other young woman's firing hand with her own, trying to force her to drop the pistol.

Minerva swings her bionic left arm backward, catching Jolie with backhanded slap across the face that sends the younger woman reeling.

Were it not for Jolie's superior training and reflexes, and her Newtype intuition, that blow would have cleanly decapitated Jolie; glancing blo_w_ though Jolie rendered it, however, she is still sent reeling. Her vision blurs as pain explodes through her skull.

_Don't hit her middle_, something inside Jolie's head says, _Not in the middle!_

Jolie clears her head just in time to dodge Minerva's shot.

Jolie runs towards a nearby abandoned salvage yard, taking cover amidst its mounds of wreckage.

Minerva notes the number of rounds left she has in her weapon and holsters it, turning back towards the Omega Gundam.

Jolie stalks Minerva across the towers of metal and plastic refuse she has scaled. Minerva is less than fifty meters from the Omega Gundam.

Jolie kicks at a strategically-placed piece of salvage, sending the mound into an avalanche.

Minerva sees the tons of debris toppling towards her and dodges to the side.

A huge plume of smoke rises where the mound has collapsed, apparently burying both Jolie and Minerva alive…

* * *

From his flagship, General Manron Blackhead surveys Shambala Colony…capital of the Shambala Republic, and once also the capital of the Archduchy of Zeon and the Zeon Republic before it. It was there that, a half century ago, Zeon Zum Daikun first proclaimed the dawning of the Age of Newtypes…and it is here that Blackhead plans to end his daughter's regime.

"Major Almqvist," Blackhead says, savoring the words, "Arm a Mjöllnir. Target: Shambala City."

"Yes, sir. Mjöllnir presently arming. Target acquired and locked. Ready to fire on your order, sir," Almqvist replies.

"Not yet," Blackhead says, sadistic pleasure dripping from his voice, "Let's have a little more fun with them first before the coup de grace. Ready gun batteries."

The beam gun batteries of the Titans fleet swivel towards Shambala Colony, raking it not with enough power to bring it down, but enough to cause multiple fires and explosions within Shambala City, further hampering evacuation efforts and claiming hundreds of lives.

Blackhead grins at the carnage, "Degenerate Spacenoid vermin…now you know what we Earthnoids endured at your hands."

Blackhead lights a fresh cigar; he decides that when it has run its course, so too will the Shambala Republic.

* * *

Jolie sees her enemy…her friend…_her sister_…in the darkness, seated on a dirty, greasy old canvas…surrounded by walls of crude, rusted sheet metal…empty crates and castoff mechanical parts scattered across the floor of the small space.

A setting most unbefitting a former duchess and a current deputy prime minister…and unbefitting a final confrontation of such significance and consequence.

Minerva senses Jolie's approach, and wearily, but steadily extends her sidearm in her flesh right hand…her cybernetic left limb disabled.

Jolie extends her own sidearm…of a similar make and model to Minerva's own…a gift from long ago.

Minerva squeezes the trigger of her weapon.

_Click._

Empty…as she had known it to be.

Minerva throws her useless firearm aside.

Minerva offers Jolie a wan smile, "You've won…you've become as good as I hoped…and as good as I feared…you'd one day be."

Jolie lowers her own weapon and steps forward…close enough to look Minerva in the eye.

They hold each other's gaze for a long, silent moment before Jolie exhales and says poignantly, "This place…it's just like my old shack in Industria Colony…the place where we first met."

Minerva hangs her head in resignation, not bothering to take in the condition of her immediate environs, but knowing what Jolie says to be true.

"It's been eight years," Jolie says, "Eight fucking goddamn years, 'Thena. Remember what you said to me when you first asked me to join the Federal Forces?"

Minerva lifts her head to face Jolie with fiery eyes, but says nothing.

Jolie continues, "You said that we'd change the world together…that we would make it a world where there'd be no more war…where no kid would ever be orphaned by war like you and I were."

Minerva sighs, "Eight years…"

"It was so long ago that it hardly seems real," Jolie says softly, "I was just a girl then…a street punk…a delinquent. I was scared…I was lonely…and I was hopeless. I was going to live out a dead-end life in that shack…on those streets…and I was going to die on those streets…maybe violently, while I was still young, or maybe of hunger as a crazy old bag lady when I was sixty."

Minerva confesses, "You were a useful tool; if I didn't use you, someone else would."

"Don't give me that," Jolie says, "I don't buy it, and neither do you. I know you, damn it. You took me in…you treated me like a sister…really a sister…and you taught me everything you knew, from how to conduct a war to how to wear a uniform with pride…how to be an officer…and how to be a woman. 'Thena…I wanted to _be_you. I _tried_to be you after I became leader of the Centurion Team. I couldn't…but I know…I know that if not for you, I'd have died alone in that godforsaken ghetto colony. On the saddest day of my life…the day I lost Jonah…you held me in your arms and shared my grief. I owe you…everything, 'Thena."

Minerva whispers, "Don't forget that I tried to kill you. You owe me nothing, Jolie. Don't let what's past stop you from doing what you must: I taught you better than that."

"You did," Jolie says coldly, lifting the muzzle of her pistol to Minerva's head, "So this is the end…Minerva Zabi."

Jolie's finger tenses on the trigger…once again, Jolie senses a mysterious second presence within Minerva…something…_somebody_ unable to form words, but pleading with Jolie to relent.

And then, Jolie's eyes widen with alarm as the truth finally becomes clear to her…

"You…'Thena, you're…!" Jolie begins.

Minerva rises rapidly from her spot, attempting to grab at Jolie's weapon with her one good hand. Jolie turns the weapon away from Minerva and, with a quick, measured blow to the side of her neck, knocks Minerva unconscious.

Jolie catches Minerva as she droops slowly to the ground, allowing her friend to fall gently.

"Damn it, 'Thena," Jolie mutters, _**"Why didn't you tell me you were going to have a baby? !"**_

Not that the "why" matters now…although upon a moment's reflection, Jolie understands why. Jolie had once nearly become a mother herself…she understands the desperation that must have driven Minerva to her choices.

Jolie knows what must be done…Minerva taught her that much.

Jolie lifts Minerva's meager weight and carries her unconscious friend out of the shack, away from the salvage yard towards where the Omega Gundam and the wreckage of the White Phoenix Gundam rest.

Jolie carefully seats Minerva in the reinforced escape cockpit escape pod of the White Phoenix Gundam, placing Minerva's helmet back on her head and strapping her friend securely into the seat.

Jolie looks upon her sister one last time, affectionately running her fingers across the smooth, pale complexion of the young woman with whom she has shared so much over the past eight years.

"Goodbye, 'Thena. Take care of yourself and your family…you were always _my_ family…my sister. I love you so much."

Jolie tenderly embraces Minerva one last time, then seals her friend's helmet and the cockpit hatch of the WPG. Working quickly, she programs the cockpit pod to jettison, with a course set to Shambala City.

Momentarily, the cockpit pod disengages and separates itself from its nacelle within the abdomen of the wrecked White Phoenix Gundam; the pod orients itself, and then makes it way through an access hatch out to empty space.

Jolie pauses a moment to watch the pod depart, and then turns to the Omega Gundam, its open cockpit waiting for her.

Major Jolie Minh-Miguel seals her helmet and boards the Omega Gundam…setting out on one final, all-important mission.

"Major Jolie Minh-Miguel: OMEGA GUNDAM, launching!"

One last time...

* * *

The streets of Shambala City are sheer pandemonium as millions rush to flee the approach of apocalypse.

A young woman falls to the street; her husband, in a vain attempt to protect her, throws himself on top of her. Momentarily, they are trampled to death by their own neighbors…people with whom, just days earlier, they had exchanged jokes and pleasantries…people who bear them no malice, but are driven by sheer terror…by a desperate desire to live…

A little girl, just six years old, screams desperately as thousands rush blindly past her on streets aflame with chaos. Her parents cannot hear her. She has no idea where they are…or if they are even still alive…lost in a relentless tide of frightened humanity.

An old man who came of age in the early years of space colonization, when the colonies were still a source of wonder and hope rather than cause for strife and war, offers no resistance…cannot offer any resistance…as younger, stronger men desperately pull him away from the passenger access door of a shuttlecraft…one of thousands quickly pressed into service for the most desperate evacuation in human history. The young men dash the senior to the ground, letting the old man fall forty feet to the cold, hard, metallic deck below.

_It's just as well_, the old man reflects. He'd had his share of living. Survival would just mean facing the horror another day. Let the young men fight for that chance.

Maybe that little girl he saw earlier would have a chance…

Maybe…

* * *

Across Side 3, hundreds of thousands of similar scenes play out in hundreds of thousands of different venues and contexts. These are fundamentally decent people, but unparalleled fear and desperation has buried the decency within them.

Prime Minister Artasia Daikun, having delivered a multimedia appeal to her people to remain calm as the Shambala Defense Forces prepare for their imminent evacuation from Side 3, leaves her office at Shambala Parliamentary Hall and takes to the streets of Shambala City. Deep down, Artasia knows that despite the civil defense forces' best efforts, billions would be caught in the firestorm.

Artasia has already resolved that she must be there, on the streets, with her people…for her people. She helps them in every capacity in which she is capable…as a leader, directing them to safety…as a medical doctor, aiding the wounded…as a soldier, taking up arms to protect them, if necessary.

Artasia undertook an oath to protect, represent, and lead the people of the Shambala Republic. If she fails to fulfill her duty to them…then she will perish alongside them.

Her father…and her brother, Cassoval, would expect no less of her.

She expects no less of herself.

But Artasia has another expectation…one that is flickering…fading, but not yet extinguished.

_Minerva…_

_No...not Minerva...Jolie Minh?_

* * *

SNRI, backed by the dozen or so warships that represent what remains of the once mighty Earth Federation Space Armada, throws all of their resources against the combined armadas and mobile suit legions of the Titans and the Crossbones Vanguard.

SNRI and the Federation Armada fight valiantly, but they are heavily, overwhelmingly outnumbered and outgunned. Their valiant forces manage to hold their own, but are unable to make any real headway towards the enemy armada bearing down on Side 3.

"Eric!" Captain Chieming Noah, "the enemy fleet is almost within range of Side 3! The Shambala Defense Guard's ranks are collapsing!"

"Hang in their, Chibi…we're gonna get through," Eric replies through gritted teeth.

Deep down inside, though, Eric comes to a heart-deadening realization.

_We're not gonna make it in time…_they're _not gonna make it…_

* * *

The NRX-206 Omega Gundam bursts forth from an industrial colony of Side 3, catching a squadron of enemy mobile suits off-guard!

Major Jolie Minh-Miguel of the Earth Federation Forces deftly directs the mighty mobile suit against the gauntlet of combined Titans and Crossbones Vanguard MS…three dozen in total, each piloted by General Manron Blackhead and Meitzer Ronah's handpicked, specially trained, elite Newtype Corps commandos.

The enemy units surround the Omega Gundam in a Probert Attack Formation, devised by the twisted mathematical genius and tactician Dr. Leonard Probert. A prodigy who earned his first doctorate in advanced theoretical mathematics and applied physics at the age of fifteen, Dr. Probert was coveted by both the Earth Federation Forces and the Archduchy of Zeon Forces during the One Year War, but apolitically refused to serve either side in the conflict, sharing the ideology of neither the Federation Legislature nor the House of Zabi. Nor could AEUG move the great mathematician during the Gryps Conflict, much less the original Titans Corps. Only when his good friend Meitzer Ronah, with whom Probert had matriculated at Heidelberg University in Germany on Earth, shared with Probert his vision for a Cosmo Babylonia did Probert become willing to lend his talents to the science of space warfare.

Probert had published a treatise on probability, published in U.C. 0064, aptly titled _Probert on Probabilities_, which revolutionized the study of probability (at least, among the few who understood its esoteric nature).

As applied to warfare, Probert has created what has been deemed the perfect, unbreakable battle formation. For each additional combat unit in the formation, the combat potential of the overall formation increases exponentially…two mobile suits have the effectiveness of four, four the effectiveness of eight, eight the effectiveness of sixteen, etc. Moreover, the formation accounts for every possible vector of attack or evasion possible, ensuring that any enemy target caught within the formation will meet its destruction, no matter how it maneuvers…unless the enemy pilot can anticipate the incoming attack vectors and adjust to precisely the one (not fixed nor constant, but rapidly moving and changing) vector that will momentarily allow the pilot to avoid catastrophe. The formation closes in, however, winding tighter and tighter to ensure that at some point, no vector of escape is possible.

Dr. Probert's attack formation has proven effective in all simulation exercises, and has worked well against every enemy target it has been deployed against…

…but how will it fare today against the White Phoenix and her Omega Gundam?

The Titans and Crossbones Vanguard mobile suits surround the Omega Gundam, taking their places in the Probert Attack Formation, hemming the larger, powerful mecha in.

Jolie reaches out with her mind…targeting each of the thirty-six incoming mobile suits and locking in on them with the Omega Gundam's weapons systems.

Before she can deploy the weaponry, however, the thirty-six enemy targets seem to become, improbably, exponentially more than that.

Jolie finds herself seemingly hemmed in on all sides…her agile Newtype mind frantically searching for an escape vector, but as soon as she locates one, it closes off and a deadly beam or missile emerges instantly in its place, forcing Jolie to parry or evade, which only forces her into an even deadlier vector.

Jolie regroups her senses, then reaches out with her mind again…encompassing all possible vectors from which enemy fire might come, and all evasion routes that the enemy might cut off…anticipating, pushing the OG into a series of movements that exceed its design capability.

Jolie senses a route…one will close within an instant. An instant she won't have…

…but she will have eternity.

Throwing aside caution, Jolie launches a frenzied counterattack, successfully downing one, two enemy targets, but the remaining enemy units regroup the formation, pulling it in tighter, hampering the Omega Gundam's ability to maneuver.

Inevitably, the incoming enemy fire seems to lance forth from every possible vector simultaneously, striking the Omega Gundam. The OG's thick Gundarium alloy armor absorbs some of the damage…the I-Field absorbs part of the beam energy. Jolie dodges most of the solid ordnance

Inevitably, however, a strike gets through all of Jolie's defenses and defies her attempts to evade.

A missile penetrates the armor of the Omega Gundam, igniting sparks that line a crucial fuel line; the explosion drives shrapnel through even the armored, reinforced cockpit of the OG.

"Combat systems compromised," intones the dispassionate voice of the OG's operating A.I., "Automated guidance and navigation systems failing."

Jolie wearily reaches a bloodied, gloved hand to the console display, switching to manual control.

Jolie coughs, a severe pain rising in her chest…crimson blood spurts forth between her lips.

Jolie's eyes flash. Three shots…two hits, one miss.

A Crossbones Vanguard MS tags the Omega Gundam, causing further damage, rattling Jolie around the cockpit of the OG as if she were a rag doll, further aggravating her already severe internal wounds.

Jolie knows she's bleeding internally…her ribs broken, likely puncturing her lung…or worse.

Jolie feels her consciousness beginning to fade; she resists with sheer willpower. She needs to stay with it…just a…few…more…minutes.

_Jonah…_

She sees him reaching out to her.

Jolie shakes the image away, screaming violently…in pain, in rage, in an unshakable determination to fulfill her duty…her final mission.

Jolie's eyes flash, mirroring the flash of the Omega Gundam's eyes.

Jolie's mind tracks as many vectors as there possibly are stars in the universe…her brain, her entire nervous system, feels as if it is on fire…she sees into the future…a microsecond…an eternity.

The OG twists through a series of contortions that cause most of its maneuvering systems to momentarily falter…stabilizes, and then contorts again as the OG deploys all of its remaining weapons systems…smashing the enemy formation and immolating dozens of mobile suits, but not before taking more critical hits, including several that send more showers of shrapnel through the cockpit module…

* * *

_A decade later, in U.C. 0116, Dr. Probert would publish a second treatise,_Probert on Probability Reconsidered_, whose central thesis would be an extended exegesis upon how the White Phoenix, Major Jolie Minh-Miguel, had achieved what Dr. Probert had previously determined to be probabilistically impossible._

"_What Major Minh-Miguel achieved was, perhaps, not actually impossible," wrote Dr. Probert, "After all, she did do it. To frame the improbability of what she accomplished in concrete terms, however, imagine this: astronomers believe that 900 sextillion stars occupy the known universe: Major Minh-Miguel's success in breaking the formation, albeit at heavy cost in terms of damage to her mecha, would be akin to shooting a beam of light randomly from some distant part of the universe and having that beam of light touch a precise, designated spot on the surface of the Earth. Her singular feat necessitated a complete reexamination of my earlier thesis. "_

* * *

Heavily damaged, the Omega Gundam lumbers past the wreckage of its enemies, on its way to one final confrontation…

Jolie painfully coughs up another lungful of blood onto the back of her gloved hand, the visor of her helmet shattered wide open. She knows he has very little time left…

Shaking her head clear, Jolie recalls the data file that Dr. Camille Vidan had left behind for her…the words still lingering in her mind.

* * *

_Jolie,_

_This is a doomsday plan. I pray to God that you never need to use it._

_The initial design plan of the Omega Gundam was conceived by Amuro Ray in U.C. 0090 as a hedge against weapons of mass destruction that the Neo Zeon, the Titans, or other hostile powers might develop. The advent of the Solar Ray, the Psycho Gundams, to say nothing of the colony drops, convinced Amuro that such a resource was necessary, if regrettable._

_The Earth Federation did not see the value of the Omega Gundam design at the time, deeming it too expensive and too dangerous to risk building. Perhaps that was a rare moment of sagacity by the Federation's leaders, but the Omega Gundam project, barely in its infancy, was abandoned in mid-U.C. 0091 in favor of the RX-93 Nu Gundam, which incorporated a portion of the technology originally planned for the Omega Gundam._

_After Char Aznable's attempt to drop Axis on Earth and Amuro's consequent death in U.C. 0093, the Federation reopened the Omega Gundam file for consideration, turning over the data that Amuro had compiled to me. I agreed to continue development of the Omega Gundam, even as I began the initial designs for what would become the Centurion Gundam and the White Phoenix Gundam. Those were powerful mecha, to be sure, but the Omega Gundam was a different story altogether._

_The Omega Gundam features superior power, armor, sensory and navigation suites, and weapons systems to any mobile weapon preceding it…but these do not represent its full strengths. The true secret of the Omega Gundam lies within its nuclear fusion engine, and its Biosensor booster built into the mecha's control system. Keyed to a unique genetic code, the Biosensor can synergize the PSI-energy of a Newtype with the nuclear fusion energy of the Omega Gundam itself, producing a destructive effect the magnitude of which we can only speculate, but possibly could destroy all human life within the Earth Sphere. It's a terrible weapon – for a terrible, desperate moment I pray none of us will ever need face._

_The genetic code that activates the Omega Wave is yours, Jolie. Should that desperate moment ever come, you will decide. I have come to trust in your wisdom to know what to do when that moment comes._

_I must warn you, however, that to use the Omega Wave is to make the ultimate sacrifice. If you use it, you absolutely will not survive it._

_I pray foremost that the day will never arrive when you must use it; I pray secondly that if the day does arrive, you will use it wisely._

_Camille_

* * *

Jolie, her consciousness fading in and out, pulls it together sufficiently to understand…to understand the reasoning behind the creation of the Omega Gundam, and the reasons that Athena wanted it so desperately…and that Athena had wanted her to join the Shambala Defense Guard…and ultimately activated Jo-M when she refused.

Athena must have known, likely through Hathaway's network of spies, that the Crossbones Vanguard and the Titans had built new stockpiles of WMD and had plans to use them on Shambala. Athena would also have realized that although she had access to colony laser technology, that technology had become off-limits for all applications aside from the restoration of Earth's ecosystem, and that seizing colony lasers for combat use would have breached the accords reached by the Shambala Republic and the Earth Federation.

The Omega Gundam, whose existence was not publicly known, was Athena's best bet...her Hail Mary play.

_Damn it , 'Thena…nothing ever is that simple with you, is it?_

With a weary grin and deep sigh, Jolie pushes forth on the Omega Gundam's thrust level.

The OG's powerful thrusters, sputtering, wrecked, nevertheless propel the MS towards its final encounter…its last shooting.

* * *

On the bridge of his flagship, General Blackhead stubs out his cigar. The moment has come.

"Prepare to fire remaining _Mjöllnir missiles at Shambala Colony," Blackhead orders, "Use 'em all, boys. It's extermination time."_

The United Forces Armada converges around Side 3…fifty units of nuclear-armed ordnance spread among its ships, now being mounted into launch tubes and readied for firing at the homeland of Zeon.

The _Mjöllnir_ missiles, each bearing a one-hundred-megaton nuclear warhead, are brought to bear upon the colonies of Side 3, whose evacuation had started over a dozen hours earlier, but was far from complete.

At least a billion would die.

"Ten seconds to _Mjöllnir_ deployment…nine, eight, seven, six…"

Blackhead lights a final victory cigar as the seconds tick down…

"_Mjöllnir_ missiles are away," the bridge tech announces.

"General Blackhead," a second tech announces, "Enemy mobile suit detected at thirty kilometers…signature reads Omega Gundam."

"Immaterial," Blackhead says, flicking ashes from the end of his cigar.

* * *

From the cockpit of the Omega Gundam, Major Jolie-Minh Miguel tracks the incoming _Mjöllnir_ missiles…fifty of them, not with the OG's sophisticated array of surveillance equipment, but with her mind.

Jolie activates the OG's inertial dampeners to anchor the mighty mobile armor in place, then channels energy into the MS's nuclear fusion engine…all of it…

_I'm on my way, Jonah…be there for me…_

Jolie unleashes herself…all of herself…into the Biosensor of the Omega Gundam. True to its design purpose, the Biosensor relays that energy into the nuclear fusion engine…

A powerful aura of energy…spanning hundreds of kilometers…radiates forward from the core of the Omega Gundam…assuming the form of a white phoenix…

* * *

A brilliant, blinding flash fills the bridge of the _Dreadnought Titan_…of every ship in the Titans' and the Crossbones Vanguard's joint armada…a flash like the death of the cosmos, or the birth of a new one…

Pleasure has given way to utter terror on the face of General Manron Blackhead, as his cigar falls from his gaping mouth onto the deck plates of the _Dreadnought Titan's_bridge.

A vengeful white phoenix of pure PSI-energy radiates outward from the Omega Gundam…inundating empty space with brilliant light…

Aboard one of hundreds of space shuttles, cargo ships, and warships…rapidly pressed into service as vessels of salvation…attempting to depart the Side 3 Zone in the most desperate exodus in human history…a child points out the view port, "Look, Mama…Papa! A white bird!"

The passengers aboard the shuttle press themselves against the view ports to gaze, dumbfounded, at the fantastic sight before them…a vast field of white light…shaped like some great white bird…stretches its wings across the perimeter of Side 3…suspended in the cosmos…

The _Mjöllnir_ missiles, each capable of disintegrating a 30-kilometer long space colony, converge upon the energy field…unable to avoid it.

The warheads make contact with the growing field of white energy…silently and safely disintegrating into vapor, harming no one.

The energy continues to reach out…similarly vaporizing thousands of Titans and Crossbones Vanguard mobile suits, and hundreds of their warships. The mightiest war machines human technology has ever devised, capable of destroying a world, are reduced to nothingness.

Blackhead screams in terror and pain as the energy consumes him body and soul…thirty years late, but welcome by a universe into which he had brought so much death and suffering…

* * *

Jolie feels herself disappearing as the Omega Gundam's armor streams away around her…the energy she has unleashed against her enemies consuming her as well.

Jolie experiences a tranquility…a calmness unlike any other sensation she has ever felt. There is no sorrow in her heart now…no anguish…no conflict…no anger…no hatred…no regret…only a sense of contentment that all will be well…that those whom she loves will live on.

_Farewell…_

The universe turns white as the White Phoenix fades from view of the mortal eye forever.

* * *

From the streets of Shambala City, in the shadow of the Shambala Republic's Parliamentary Hall, Prime Minister Artasia Daikun and tens of thousands of her fellow Shambalans stare in awe at the sight of the White Phoenix…preserving them all from the fiery doom that evil men had chosen for them.

Artasia's Newtype mind senses Jolie's fading presence, and the leader of the Shambala Republic falls to her knees in relief…and in gratitude.

_Jolie Minh…thank you…for all my people, thank you…_

* * *

Aboard the Earth Federation Forces' flagship _Amuro Ray_, President Mirai Yashima-Noah, General Bright Noah, and Col. Christina McKenzie raise their hands and bow their heads in solemn salute.

A tear trickles silently from the eye of Col. McKenzie.

_Major Minh-Miguel…Jolie…_

* * *

Aboard the cockpit of her Cour de Leon, Captain Chieming Noah shakes her head violently in disbelief. When she can finally find her voice, all she can manage is a choked, anguished scream, "That light…Eric…is Jolie…?"

Chieming can hear the tears in her fiancé's voice as he replies slowly, "Jolie saved us. All of us…but she's gone…Chieming, she's gone…"

Chieming gives into sobs of grief she cannot hold back, pounding vengefully on the monitor of her mobile suit.

After a long moment of crushing, unbearable grief, a comforting thought rises in Chieming's mind…

_Jolie…Jonah…finally, you're together again…together…forever._

"Goodbye, Jolie...we love you...all of us, and we'll never forget..." Chieming whispers mournfully, remembering that long ago day when she first met that relentless, vivacious sixteen-year old with the fiery eyes and the long, raven black hair who represented everything Chieming herself wanted to be…everything that Chieming has since become.

The mobile suits of SNRI, having mopped up or sent into retreat the last of the remaining Titans and Crossbones Vanguard mobile suits, fire their beam rifles into the cosmos in tribute to their fallen comrade-at-arms…their leader.

* * *

From their flagship, now on a course to the Frontier Space Colonies far beyond the Earth Sphere, Meitzer Ronah and his adjutant, the masked Carrozzo Ronah, look back at the White Phoenix with angry, vengeful eyes.

_We lose today_, Meitzer reflects, _but tomorrow belongs to us. The White Phoenix can't protect them anymore. Whether it takes twenty years or thirty, the Cosmic Babylonia will rise to rule this universe…_

Meitzer turns to Carrozzo, patting the younger man on the shoulder and offering him an enigmatic smile. The two retire to plot their future…

* * *

Minerva Zabi stirs…taking a brief moment to get her bearings before becoming cognizant of her surroundings.

A brilliant white flash reaches Minerva through the external viewport of the reinforced escape pod.

Minerva's Newtype sensitivity instantly comprehends what has happened.

"No…" Minerva bites out, tears flooding her eyes, "Jolie…no, damn you…no…"

_Jolie…you fool…you damned fool…why did you do it?_

The answer comes through Jolie's voice in her head, _For you, Athena…for you, for your child, and for all the people we swore to protect. Be a good mother, Athena…and a good leader of the people._

Through her tears, Minerva spots the approach of her husband's Oglu Aslan mobile suit, which embraces the escape pod as a loving father would embrace a child…

Through sobs that she struggles to control, Minerva brings her hand to her abdomen, which has finally started to notably swell…

* * *

_Jolie feels herself outside her body…outside the known limits of the universe, in a place of pure tranquility, warmth, and light…_

_Here, there is no fear, nor pain, nor loneliness…she senses presences…familiar, comforting presences, enveloping her with feelings of utter love and security._

_She hears a familiar, gentle voice calling her name._

"_Jonah?"_

_He appears out of the light, as handsome…more handsome than she remembers, smiling lovingly at her, reaching out to her, "Jolie…I've been waiting. We've been waiting. Welcome home."_

_Beyond Jonah, Jolie senses other presences…which quickly take recognizable, but ethereal forms…Jolie's father, mother, brother…and a little girl whom Jolie knows to be the daughter she thought was lost to her._

_Jolie drifts gently into Jonah's embrace, and the light carries them away…to tides of peace that sweep across the cosmos._

* * *

July 14, U.C. 0106…

In the Shambala Republic's Hall of Parliament, applause and wild cheers greet the signing of the White Phoenix Accords, securing friendship between the Shambala Republic and the Earth Federation Government, by Shambala Prime Minister Artasia Daikun and her Earth Federation counterpart, President Mirai Yashima-Noah.

The two national leaders, having once been comrades-at-arms aboard the _White Base_, are also friends whose bond has been forged across decades. The war-weary citizens of the Shambala Republic and the Earth Federation can, at long last, rest assured that the handshakes, embraces, and smiles exchanged by their leaders are backed by a sincere desire to establish and maintain a lasting peace between their nations.

Absent from the celebration of peace, however, are two figures instrumental in making it possible. One, because she is no longer a part of the mortal plane…the other, because she is presently laboring to bring a new life into it…

* * *

"_Nnnnnnnnnghh!" _Minerva grunts, her beautiful, still-youthful face betraying the effort she is expending in the long, difficult work of delivering her child into the world.

Hathaway Noah gazes lovingly at his wife's pleasantly-shaped derrière, a pleasurable enough experience under more familiar circumstances, but under present circumstances…infinitely more so. Within view is the head of their daughter, slowly emerging into the world.

"_Unnnnnngh_!" Minerva grunts again, straining with through her pelvic muscles, moving the baby back and out by another centimeter.

_Back_and out because, to facilitate the all-natural birth, Minerva has assumed a hands-and-knees all-fours position on the warm, comfortable rug within the ranch home that she and Hathaway share in the rural district of Shambala's capital colony, ten kilometers from the center of Shambala City where the Hall of Parliament stands.

Hathaway places warm, comforting hands along the side of Minerva's compact, firm buttocks…massaging her gently to ease the tension and assist her pushing efforts. Hathaway marvels at how little pregnancy has transformed Minerva's superbly sensual, graceful feminine figure (other than the obviously swollen belly); her physiological architecture remains alluring even under present circumstances.

Not that such thoughts are remotely near Minerva's mind as she pants, then abruptly holds her breath, and grunts through tightly shut lips as she strains again, feeling a fullness in her bowels and burning, stretching sensation between her thighs.

Hathaway gingerly places his hands around the crown of the emerging child's head, smiling as he says tenderly, "It won't take much longer, Min...hang in there."

Minerva lets out a short, weary laugh, and says, "Easy for you to say…you're not the one pushing."

Another powerful contraction forces Minerva into another grunt and push…more pronounced and painful than before, "_UNNNNNGHHHHH!_"

"That was good, Min…that one got her whole head out," Hathaway says reassuringly.

Minerva pants and, to Hathaway's surprise and dismay, begins sobbing.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Hathaway asks, concerned.

Minerva shakes her head and pants weakly, "Hathaway…that last one…took everything out of me. I don't think…I can push anymore."

Hathaway places his hands reassuringly alongside Minerva's buttocks again, saying softly, "Just rest a minute, honey. Don't try to do it all at once. Gather yourself…"

Minerva, her head going light, seems to discern a familiar, wispy form in front of her.

"Jolie…?" Minerva whispers wearily.

_You've always been strong_, the apparition seems to say in words heard by Minerva alone, _be strong again now…for_her.

The apparition fades.

Minerva lifts her head, shuts her eyes tight, her teeth clenched in a rictus of supreme effort…gathers the remains of her strength and bears down one final, climactic time into her bottom.

"_MMMM….NNNNNGHH_!"

Hathaway collapses into tears of joy as his daughter topples forth into his loving hands, and takes her first breaths…and utters her first cries.

"Min…she's…she's just like you. She's…beautiful…so beautiful," Hathaway chokes out.

Minerva, still on her knees and hands, leans back to an upright position as Hathaway places the baby between her thighs.

Minerva looks down upon her newborn child and smiles beautifully, tears of joy streaming down her face.

"I love you…Jolie Athena…," Minerva whispers to her child.

_Jolie Athena Noah…born into a world at peace._

**THE END**


	12. EPILOGUE

**EPILOGUE – U.C. 0106 – 0116**

_On July 14, U.C. 0106, Prime Minister Artasia Daikun of the Shambala Republic and President Mirai Yashima-Noah of the Earth Federation Government signed the White Phoenix Accords, ensuring lasting peace and friendship between the Shambala Republic and the Earth Federation, which would continue to help each other heal and rebuild the Earth in the decades to come._

_Deputy Prime Minister Minerva Zabi resigned from office to raise her daughter; she was replaced by her good friend, Dory Ischinda._

_Prime Minister Artasia Daikun's second term as Prime Minster ended in the year U.C. 0112. Minerva Zabi emerged from retirement to be elected the second Prime Minister of the Shambala Republic…an office in which she served two terms to the year U.C. 0124._

_The Earth Federation Government purged the remains of the Titans from its military forces; its leaders were prosecuted for treason and crimes against humanity in a court martial, and were subsequently executed. President Mirai Yashima-Noah completed her second term as President of the Earth Federation Government in U.C. 0112 and was succeeded by President Adanna Abdul-Al Said, wife of former Centurion Team member Sgt. Maj. Hakim Abdul-Al Said._

_General Bright Noah retired from the Earth Federation Forces in U.C. 0112; General Christina McKenzie succeeded him as Chief of Staff of the Earth Federation Forces._

_Col. Eric Gardner was appointed Director of SNRI._

_At the Heroes' Hill Veterans' Memorial, a plaque commemorates two sacrifices that made possible a new era of peace._

_**COL. JONAH MIGUEL COL. JOLIE MINH-MIGUEL**_

_**LOVERS, HEROES**_

_**PEACEMAKERS**_

"_**THEIR LIGHT SHINES FOREVERMORE"**_


	13. Afterword

**AFTERWORD**

This concludes the saga of MOBILE SUIT GUNDAM: THE SECOND CENTURY – the story of Athena Ibaz (Minerva Zabi), Jolie Minh, and Jonah Miguel.

This was a labor of love first conceived twenty years ago, and which finally came to light here at over the course of the past three years.

I would like to thank the readers who have supported this project, and especially Mr. Eric Gardner for his numerous contributions.

Although THE SECOND CENTURY's main narrative has concluded, more side stories involving characters from THE SECOND CENTURY will appear at in the future.

But first, it's time for a long break…

Happy Holidays!

Ken Cheng

Author, MOBILE SUIT GUNDAM: THE SECOND CENTURY

December, 2010


End file.
